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tsukikento · 4 years ago

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Empathetic Chapter 16 (Please Read A/N for Update)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you’re in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family’s past.

This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn.

A/N: Two chapters in one month?? Your super nice and amazing comments always want to make me write so much more! I’m glad I had some extra time this week to get things out. PLEASE READ NOTE BELOW:

With the recent chapters of the manga in mind, I want to make note that this story is non-canon. I want to keep this story cohesive and not spoil anything that is not in the anime. However, there may be discrepancies or differences because I started writing during the overhaul arc. I understand a lot of people don't read the manga and some things have happened that could impact what I plan to do with this story. So, please keep in mind that this is not canon, but is set in the second year. My main goals are clarity within this story and not spoiling anything. Thank you!

(series masterlist)

The next few weeks passed in a blur because your schedule was now much more packed with various activities. You had cooking on Monday, training with Aizawa-sensei and Shinsou every Tuesday and Friday, and training with Bakugou every Wednesday and Sunday.

On top of that, physical training had increased throughout the class because of the approaching sports festival and many people were asking to train with you. So far, you had trained with the girls a couple of times as well as in other small study groups when the spaces were rented out. Everyone was rather nice about inviting when they could, although you didn’t always say yes.

As of now, it was the Wednesday before the Sports Festival. Class ended with a big endurance workout and then some stretches. Each student was breathing heavily and slowly making their way back to the lockers to change. Knowing you would be training with Bakugou in the next hour, you didn’t want to shower, but also didn’t want to switch back into your school uniform because it would become dirty.

However, you immediately changed your mind as you saw how sweaty you were in the mirror. Strands of hair were stuck to your face from sweat and your face was clearly flushed.

“Did I look this bad all of class?” You frantically asked Momo and Jirou who were ruffling through their own lockers.

Jirou let out a few snickers at your reaction while Momo shook her head and smiled sweetly.

“You don’t look bad at all,” Momo explained while she applied deodorant.

“You’re too nice,” You replied, waving hero off sheepishly before looking to Jirou, “Tell me the truth, Jirou-san.”

“You don’t look too bad,” She responded, “All of us look like a mess. I don’t think anyone would really notice if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You hummed a response, not quite satisfied with her response, but also not about to beg her to call you either gorgeous or hideous. You turned back to your locker, deciding last minute to take a shower. You weren’t going to wash your hair, but you would borrow the hairbrush you knew Ashido has in order to fix your hair.

Once finally clean, with hair neatly brushed and tied back from your face, you leisurely walked back with Ashido and Hagakure to grab your school bags.

“So, now that I am officially in a relationship,” Ashido began, “I figured it was time I played matchmaker for you two hopeless romantics,” The kindred girl skipped ahead of you and Hagakure with a wide smile.

You chuckled low in your throat. “I don’t think that really describes us well,” You retorted, trailing behind slightly.

Ashido simply waved you off and moved around to throw her arm around Hagakure. “What about you, Toru-chan? Do you want me, who is in a steady relationship, to help you and Ojiro?”

“Um,” The invisible girl tentatively started. She was clearly unsure how Ashido would be able to help. “I’m okay with my relationship with Ojiro right now…”

“Really?” Ashido inquired. “You’re okay with just being his friend?” Your small group rounded the corner, approaching the classroom.

“Well,” You were sure Hagakure would be blushing if she wasn’t invisible. “I don’t want to push him into anything because he is shy and likes to go slow. I think it is best if it happens naturally.”

Ashido visibly harrumphed before looking back at you. “Y/L/N-chan!” She explained, moving from Hagakure to you. “Let me be your wing-woman!”

You slid open the classroom door, head turned to reply to Ashido. “I’m pretty sure Bakugou would blow you up before you even had a chance to be my wing woman.”

“Meanie,” The pink-haired girl pouted before pushing past you to go to her desk and grab her bag.

“I just don’t know if Bakugou would want anyone to meddle in the too-small relationship we have now,” You explained, walking over to your own desk. Everyone else’s desks were empty, meaning you were the last three people left.

“Yeah, but you are barely spending any time with him. Not only do I know Bakugou well, but I can help you because I’m dating Kirishima,” Mina countered. “I could talk you up, or lowkey make us go on a double date. It would work perfectly.”

You all walked out of the classroom, closing the door after Ashido and Hagakure both exited, and walking toward the lockers at the entrance to change shoes.

“I feel like I spend plenty of time with him,” You reasoned, adjusting your backpack up higher. You were trying to explain yourself without being too descriptive. You saw him every day at school, ate lunch with him, spent time with him three days out of the week, and saw him in the halls occasionally.

“You mean lunches with all of us and cooking dinner once a week with him and Sero?” Ashido countered. “That’s maybe more time than half the class, but it isn’t very much for a romantic relationship.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed loudly. Personally, you weren’t sure if Bakugou would really spend much time with his partner. He wasn’t a very outgoing person to begin with and you imagined that he would want someone who respected his privacy.

After a short debate, you decided it was best to tell your friends about the additional time you had spent with Bakugou. The time you spent with him was more heavily focused on training than anything else, meaning this information wouldn’t change too much about what your relationship with him meant. “You can’t say anything, okay?” You began your confession. You felt safe telling them but wanted to make sure it stayed in your small circle of friends.

Both girls turned towards you. Ashido’s eyes were wide with curiosity.

“Bakugou and I have been training together every Wednesday and Sunday,” You simply said.

“Huh?” Hagakure spoke up, “Like, you guys happen to be at the gym at the same time?”

“No,” You clarified, “Like, we meet up every Wednesday and Sunday for hours to train together.”

“What?” The pink-haired girl screeched. She turned and moved to be in front of you in order to stop you in your tracks. “Really?”

“Why would I lie?” You replied, shrugging easily.

“I don’t know,” She shot back with a cheeky smile. She looked down and nervously bit on her lip. “I just can’t believe it.” Before you could say anything else, she looked up at you. “I don’t think you even need my help, Y/L/N-chan!”

“Thanks,” You laughed out.

The three of you began walking again before separating to go to each of your respective lockers. You grabbed a couple of textbooks, put a few things from your bag away and into the locker, as well as switched your shoes. You met back up with Hagakure and Ashido at the door and exited together.

The silence was quickly ended by Ashido. “I can’t believe you are training with him.”

“Is it really that unheard of?” You inquired.

“I mean, he doesn’t really train with anyone. The fact that he is training with you is a good sign,” Ashido explained. “But that is also giving you an insane opportunity to spend time with him that almost no one else gets.”

“Wow,” Hagakure finally added. She turned to face you. “You really are lucky huh?”

You felt your cheeks flush. “Oh, well, um,” You stuttered, “I don’t think I’m that lucky. It’s probably just a coincidence.”

Ashido scoffed, “Yeah, we’ll see.”

You simply rolled your eyes at the girls and followed Ashido as she went on to talk about Kirishima while leading you all back to the dorms.

As subtly as possible, you pulled out your phone to check your notifications. Bakugou would often text you after class or in the morning to let you know where he wanted to meet that day. Frequently, it would be in the cityscape, because it was best for his quirk.

In reflection, you were often mostly working for his benefit. Although you definitely improved through practice, small details like the location of the training, or discussion on what to improve often revolved around the blond boy.

You bit your lip, debating if it was bad.

On one hand, you were happy to spend time with him, help him, and still improve yourself.

On the other, is it a bad sign that he is unwilling to help improve your skills?

Well, it’s not like he is unwilling. I’ve never asked, you reasoned. And maybe he doesn’t know how to help me like I know how to help him because I grew up in a hero family.

You sighed at the predicament just as your phone vibrated with Bakugou’s decision on where to meet.

Let’s meet right outside the dorm room. No hero costume necessary.

That’s new. Sure, the first time you met outside the dorms so he could show you where the cityscape was, but he hadn’t done that since.

You shoved your phone back into your pocket as Ashido opened the door to the dorm house. You each quickly went your separate ways. Hagakure rushed to the bathroom, Ashido went to grab a snack, and you went upstairs to change and get ready.

You did your best to tidy up quickly. You didn’t need your hero costume, but you still might be doing some form of combat or exercise so you needed to dress in workout clothes. You dressed in comfortable, dark leggings and a sports bra to match. On top, you wore a sweat-resistant shirt and styled your hair to keep it out of your face.

You bit your lip as you looked in the mirror and thought over what you could do to make your appearance any better. This probably isn’t even something Bakugou thinks about, you thought as your forced yourself to look away and grab your phone.

You had just enough time to pack a small bag with your belongings and go downstairs to fill up your water bottle. When done, you popped your head outside the front door to see if Bakugou was waiting. With five minutes to spare, you were here before the short-tempered boy. And so, you sat down at the large couches by the door and waited for Bakugou to come down while scrolling through your phone.

“I thought I told you to wait outside,” You heard a gruff voice say. You looked up from your phone to see Bakugou walking towards the kitchen to fill his own water.

“I didn’t know how long you would take,” You reasoned and smiled at the blond before getting up to meet him in the kitchen. In reality, you were waiting no more than two minutes before he came down.

“You know I would never be late,” He retorted while screwing the cap onto his bottle.

You shrugged in response, not bothering to reply verbally. The conversation died down as you followed behind Bakugou and out of the house. “So, where are we going?” You asked as you closed the door behind the both of you.

“The library,” Bakugou explained. “I want to do some theorizing stuff, maybe some combat after.”

You hummed and followed behind him on the short trek to the library. “Is there anything specific on your mind?” You inquired, considering this isn’t something Bakugou had wanted to do before.

“The sports festival is this weekend and I want to win. I was thinking we could watch old highlights and strategize what the possible challenges could be and how to approach them,” Bakugou described.

“And we can’t just do this in the dorms?” You shot back.

“Shuddup,” He responded. “It’s always easier to study in a computer lab rather than our rooms.”

“I guess,” You simply replied, not really caring about where you were when you would be analyzing old clips from sports festivals in the past.

“I guess,” Bakugou mimicked back, a habit he formed quickly when you began to talk more. Anytime your accent sounded a little off, just slightly weird, the blond would repeat it, emphasizing the mistake, and snickering at it.

“Oh shut up, you idiot,” You snapped back, not too harshly slapping his name on his arm.

“What?” He loudly reasoned while still laughing. “I’m trying to help you speak better Japanese.”

“No, you aren’t,” You rolled your eyes at him shrugging, “You are just laughing at me.”

Bakugou feigned surprise, gasping and putting his hand onto his chest. “How dare you? I am in the top 10 of our grade academically, and your accent has only gotten better since I started doing this.”

“Yeah, well you suck ass at English,” You mumbled in response.

“I don’t need to have a perfect accent if I am speaking English in Japan,” He retorted before pulling open the door to the school. It led to the library and computer lab that was a few stories up.

“When you speak English here, you will most likely be doing hero work with tourists that unfortunately got caught in something,” You reasoned, “They won’t be able to understand you well if at all when you don’t study tonal English.”

Realistically, yes, they would be able to understand Bakugou. However, you were currently butt-hurt and unwilling to compliment him.

“Then I will leave the talking to you.” Bakugou pressed the elevator door button and waited until it dinged and the doors opened to walk in.

“And you expect me to just be there in the field with you?” You questioned, following behind him.

“What?” Are you going back to America?” He asked back. His voice had a different tone to it. He was no longer teasing you and instead of asking a genuine question.

You pushed away the want to analyze this difference in inflection, knowing it would make you look like an idiot for pausing to reply for so long. “Not anytime soon,” You finally replied, “But we can’t predict the future, and I have no clue where I will go after graduation.”

“Well, you should stay here,” Bakugou simply said.

You couldn’t help but shoot him a shocked and curious look. “Does the Bakugou Katsuki really want me to stay in Ja—”

“It’s not like that, you idiot!” He interrupted you. “Japan is just a lot better for heroism than America so you will learn more and be better if you stay here.”

He had a pout on his face that begged you to not tease him.

So, you didn’t.

However, you weren’t sure what to say so you simply followed behind Bakugou as he entered the library and beelined it to a table.

“And my name isn’t Ka-TSU-ki,” He finally spoke while placing his belongings onto the table.

You shot him a confused look, “What do you mean?” You placed your own things down to his right.

“Put more accent on ‘Ka’,” He explained easily. “You should rush through it to sound more like KA-tski.”

Bakugou shot you a look as if he was waiting for you to say his name. “What?” You curiously asked.

“Practice,” He motioned for you to speak.

“Uhhh, Ka-tski, KA-tski, Katsuki,” You awkwardly attempted. You felt the heat spread from the bottom of your neck to your cheeks and finally to the tops of your ears.

You weren’t a fool. You knew what using a first name meant in Japanese culture and also knew that no one except Midoriya referred to him by any other name besides Bakugou. For him to so casually have you repeat his first name over and over made your stomach flip.

“Good,” He spoke, voice deep and almost raspy. It made butterflies erupt in your stomach. His tone was… different and it made your head spin crazily. The blond sat down and pulled out his laptop.

“I didn’t bring my computer,” You awkwardly explained.

“That’s fine,” Bakugou immediately replied. “I can rent one out from the library if need be, but we can share earbuds and watch videos on my laptop.”

You gulped down the quickly forming lump in your throat and simply kept watching the blond unpack his bag.

From being able to say his first name without him yelling at you to his tone and his willingness to share, Bakugou was acting unusually. And you were clearly flustered by it. You were sure that if Ashido was here, she would practically be stabbing you with her elbow while she winked at you repeatedly.

Luckily, however, it was just the oblivious and preoccupied Bakugou who was currently opening a tab on his laptop and pulling up videos. You were free to push your chair back, gulp down too much water, and attempt to manage your breathing pattern without him noticing.

Or at least that’s what you hoped.

“Here.”

You looked up from the desk and saw Bakugou holding out an earbud to you. Before grabbing it, your eyes trailed down the wire that inevitably connected it to Bakugou’s own ear. Bakugou had moved the laptop to be evenly between you two on the desk, he was also leaning in slightly to give your more room with the earbud wire. Finally, he also had a notebook and pen to his left so he could write down notes.

You moved closer to the blond and put in the earbud. You tried your best not to move too close, but Bakugou easily moved closer once you stopped adjusting and his own shoulder was now brushing against yours.

Oh, great, you thought. You felt a tinge of nerves from Bakugou push into you. Because your shoulders were only brushing, sometimes not touching at all, you could really only see his surface-level emotions. More than anything, he was focused and determined.

Bakugou opened a document that already had a plethora of notes. “These are the past 11 years of sports festivals and what challenges were done each time,” He explained as you scanned your eyes over the expansive document. It was organized by year, then by class year, and finally, by challenge done.

You hummed to simply let Bakugou know you heard him as you searched for patterns.

“The most common one is a race,” Bakugou began, “But it is different every time.” He moved his cursor to open a video. “This is a compilation of the 17 races or marathons that were done.”

Without waiting, Bakugou began playing the video. They were short clips, the teacher hosting the sports festival explaining what each step of the race was as well as a few highlights. You took mental notes while Bakugou scribbled away in his notebook. You immediately noticed him angrily grumbling when last year’s highlights came up, it showed Midoriya expertly soaring into first place.

“These definitely favor flight abilities,” You mumbled as the video came to a close. The notation wasn’t so good for your quirk, but you knew Bakugou would have little trouble.

“Yeah,” Bakugou simply replied, well aware of the disadvantage you would have if it was a marathon-based challenge.

“How are you feeling about your maneuverability?” You asked Bakugou, knowing there was little you could do. Well, except hope that a marathon challenge wasn’t in this year’s sports festival.

“I’m fine,” Bakugou responded, before changing the subject, “Races are least common for second years though, so I’m not sure if we should expect it.” Bakugou leaned back in his chair, “I know that U.A. does some stuff to help prevent repetitiveness between the classes within a year, but also between the same class each year.”

“Damn,” You commented, “You really know your stuff.”

“Yeah, well it makes sense to analyze past stuff,” Bakugou explained, “I can train all I want, but analyzing last year definitely helped me too.”

“I wonder if anyone else is doing this,” You thought out loud.

Bakugou simply shrugged and turned back to his computer. “Usually, every second round is a group-based challenge, but they vary a lot.” You nodded in understanding, “The most common one in the past 11 years is a mini-disaster situation. They love doing this for second-years, but it costs a lot so it has only happened 9 times between all three grade levels.” Bakugou once again pulled up a video and began playing clips from the 9 previous disaster situations.

The first time it was ever done, the teachers played it off as a real situation. It made for great television and a realistic view of how heroes work in the field, but the audience was unaware of the decision and it terrified them. There were actors in place as villains and civilians, but U.A. ended up apologizing and doing it the next year with multiple variations and adjustments to be more family-friendly.

“They didn’t do this last year,” Bakugou elaborated, “So I think they will this year.” He moved back to a new document. It had each year’s disaster detailed on it. It listed hat was the problem, the main highlights, as well as who won and the quirks the team had.

“The grading of this challenge is based on the team’s ability to work well together, how they work against the villain, and how they help rescue the designated civilians.” Bakugou paused for a beat, “I know you haven’t done the hero provisional license, but it is similar to the task during that test, just on a smaller scale.”

You nodded in understanding while reading over the group’s quirks. “Do you know if the students got to pick their teams?” You asked.

“I couldn’t find anything on it, but for our team-based challenge last year, we were allowed to pick groups,” Bakugou replied.

“Who would you pick then?” You asked him, partially out of curiosity for his strategy and partially hoping he would say your name.

Bakugou hummed in thoughts, “Most teams in the past were five people, and I don’t know how great I would be with helping civilians.” Bakugou paused in thought, “I think you, Kirishima, and Ashido would be great with that.”

And there go the butterflies once again erupting in your stomach.

“You would also allow us to communicate across the field, Kirishima would be great for defense if the villains ever attacked the civilians, and Ashido has a great offensive attack and personality that would keep people calm.” He paused for a few moments, “I also think Sero would be great with saving civilians and then moving to help in the offensive.”

“Isn’t that the same team you had last year?” You questioned. You wanted to tease him for being so willing to compliment people, but you knew he would react badly. You made a mental note to tell Ashido later.

“Well, I added you!” Bakugou defended, voice rising in volume slightly.

The librarian shushed him and you snickered at his angry face. “Calm down,” You reassured, placing your hand onto his own.

It was a habit to touch people and help them, you weren’t even thinking about how it would change his feelings. However, you immediately felt the heat from his hand warm your cool skin without processing exactly what you were doing. Although your mind wanted you to snatch your hand back once you felt his warmth, you knew it would only make the situation weirder. Instead, you pushed away his anger and calmed him just slightly, trying not to push your own nerves onto him.

Bakugou looked at you with wide eyes before his face relaxed. Similar to before, you felt his nerves rush into your body. It honestly made you more nervous. Knowing that your focus on nerves would only worsen both of yours, you pulled your hand back, trying your best to seem casual. Thoughts rushed through your head as you tried to figure out why he became so nervous when you touched his hand with your own.

You weren’t an idiot.

You knew what type of nerves he had.

It wasn’t sickness-related and it definitely wasn’t an anxiety-induced nerve. It was the same type of nerves you felt when your stomach would flip at the rare sight of Bakugou smiling. It was the same flutter of your heart when you saw Bakugou dressed in his hero costume.

You could even see the small blush forming on the tips of his ears and cheeks, only helping to confirm your assumptions.

If you didn’t stop yourself, you would have already stumbled out an apology before grabbing your belongings and rushing out of the library. Except, if you did do that, it would be a dead giveaway that you understood his nerves.

Something you reminded yourself over and over was that if anything was going to happen with the blond, you would need to be patient. Over the past few weeks, as you two have grown closer, it was patience and understanding that made him more comfortable around you.

“Sorry,” You apologized after a moment, moving to grab your water and take a few sips.

Bakugou pulled back from you, “It’s okay.”

He knows.

He knows I know.

He knows that I know that he knows.

You closed your eyes tightly to push your anxious thoughts away.

How could he know? He’s just as nervous as I am if not more!

“Sometimes I forget my quirk will just go off, I didn’t mean to change your feelings,” You explained. Although helpful, sometimes it was best for people to feel out their emotions and learn to change them on their own.

“It’s okay,” Bakugou repeated, “It’s for the best anyways. I’d hate to be kicked out of the library…again.”

“Again?” You questioned, quirking your eyebrow at the blond.

Bakugou nodded, laughing at himself slightly. “Yeah, it was when I was tutoring Kaminari last year. That idiot can be so stupid sometimes, I couldn’t hold back my screams when he told me the 4 squared was 8.”

You chuckled at Bakugou’s story, covering your mouth slightly to muffle your laughs. “Oh my god,” You exclaimed in surprise.

“I know,” Bakugou confirmed. “I don’t think he would have passed last year if I wasn’t there to tutor him,” Bakugou smirked while watching you giggle at his joke. Once your laughter died down with a deep breath, Bakugou adjusted himself in his chair to face his laptop once again. “Anyways,” He began, “I think the team I mentioned earlier would be great. We would have well-balanced defense and offense.”

You nodded, “I’ll make sure to keep that in mind if we all make it to the second round.”

“Oh, you better,” Bakugou pointed his finger at you. “I don’t care what the first round is, your better be ready to be the second person at the finish line.”

“Second?” You asked, already knowing where this would go.

“Yeah, obviously I am first,” Bakugou said seriously.

You held back your laugh but smiled all the same. “I’m sure you will be first, Bakugou-san. Now, let’s get back to review so we can make that possible.”

Bakugou nodded and began another small speech about the other team challenges. You listened diligently, watched the videos intently, and provided notes and feedback when you had some to say.

You both started a consistent pattern, reviewing each section before talking about how it could be positive or negative for each person. You theorized different abilities and moves you each had that could assist in a challenge. For example, a less common first challenge was a multi-round skills test.

It was much more used in the past but featured small rounds within the challenge that would add up to give people overall grades. Previous rounds featured breathing tests or aim with weaponry of choice.

“And that’s it!” Bakugou sighed, pushing himself back to rest against his chair. At this point, you and Bakugou had been in the library for over three hours with only one break to get up, stretch, and use the restroom.

You quietly whooped and took out the earbud so you could also lean back into your chair. “My back hurts, but this was definitely worth it.”

Bakugou chuckled at your comment, twisting in his chair to crack his back. “Happy to help.”

“If you are so happy to help, are you going to share this with anyone else?” You asked, looking at him from the corner of your eye.

“No,” Bakugou began, “Probably not.” He grabbed his water. “But you grew up in a hero family so you could help strategize more than the other class members.”

“I guess, but you don’t know that.” You turned to face him as he sipped on his drink. “Not only are you making assumptions about my past, but you are making assumptions about the other students as well.”

Bakugou dropped his head and rolled it to the side to look into your eyes with his own, vibrant scarlet orbs. He had a slight smirk on his lips that made you not quite gasp, but a breath in quickly and suddenly. However, it only got worse when his tongue appeared, slowly swiping across his upper lip. You wondered if the action was intentional, or if he could really look this good unintentionally.

“How many times is it now that you’ve come after me for assuming things about you?” He asked, his eyes squinting slightly at you.

You looked away, knowing you couldn’t respond if you continued to watch him. You were tempted to tell him not to look at you that way but also knew that would make him even more conceited and only edge him on. “Often enough for it to bug me and for you to remember. I think that’s a sign you should have learned by now,” You shot back.

“Oof,” Bakugou replied, moving in his seat to be sitting up straighter, he turned to face you more head-on and lay his right arm across the chair. “Why don’t you just clarify your past for me then?”

You eyed Bakugou closely. “Do you not remember what happened the first time you asked that?”

“You mean when you stormed out like you had a temper worse than mine? Of course, I do,” Bakugou shot back. He paused for a moment and you watched him think over his next words carefully, “Aren’t I your closest friend here?” You could tell it was to more so tease you, but you also wondered, due to his pause, if he was hoping you would say yes.

You scoffed at his comment, “Shouldn’t that be Ashido or Hagakure?” There was a fine line between complimenting Bakugou, revealing your feelings, and just making him more conceited. You feared that if you played into his idea about you two being close, it would give him an upper hand in your relationship. You were not willing to let Bakugou tease you and make you blush like a fool.

Well, it's not like you had too much of a choice in the matter though.

“Oh, please!” Bakugou retorted, “You spend so much more time with me than you do with them.”

“I also spend a lot of time with Shinsou,” You replied.

It was almost like a tug of war. Bakugou wanted you to admit that you spent so much time with him that he was practically your default best friend while you were trying to prove that you weren’t reliant on him. It’s not that the amount of time you spent with him was bad, not at all. You just didn’t want to tell him the truth because it would make him too confident.

“Who?” Bakugou asked, looking at you with a confused expression.

“Are you serious?” You laughed, “Are you really that unbelievably bad with names?” When Bakugou didn’t bother to reply, you continued, “Purple hair? Mind control quirk?”

“Him?” Bakugou exclaimed once realization dawned on him, “How are you spending so much time with that guy?”

“I’m interning with him and Aizawa-sensei,” You explained. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned this before.”

Bakugou slumped over his chair and pouted, “I would have remembered that. Why are you even interning with him?”

“Well, if you must know Bakugou-san,” You began, “I don’t have my provisional license and need a way to train. Plus, our quirks work well together. Aizawa-sensei wants us to get our licenses as soon as possible because he wants to see how well we work together in the field.”

Bakugou grumbled something you couldn’t quite hear so you simply ignored it.

“Are you actually upset?” You asked him, noticing his telltale signs of jealousy, but not quite believing he could be the jealous type. Or if you were worth being jealous over.

“No!” He immediately shot back, earning him another shush from the professor. “I just didn’t know you were training with other people too.”

You didn’t believe this was jealousy over you training with other people but knew pushing the subject would make Bakugou irritated. Forcing someone to share their feelings and emotions was never ideal. You could push slightly to see if they would open up, but if the situation isn’t severe, and you receive push back, it is best to let it go for the time being.

You saw the pout on his lips and simply laughed at his cute and childish actions. “What’s gonna make you feel better, huh? Should I tell you about my family’s deep, dark past?”

Bakugou scoffed and turned his body away from yours slightly. “Don’t tease me.”

“What do you mean?” You asked. “You doubt that my family has a dark past? Doesn’t every hero family have one?”

Bakugou called your bluff, “Then go ahead, tell me yours.”

You paused, not sure what to do. “Okay, w-well,” You stumbled over your words slightly, “It’s not that I don’t have one. I just didn’t expect you to actually ask me to tell you.”

You felt nerves erupt in your stomach, wondering how Bakugou would react to you backing out.

Bakugou laughed lightly, moving in his chair to sit up straight and look at you. “I’m never going to force you to tell me anything, but I’ll be here whenever you are ready.”

Oof.

There goes your heart rate, skyrocketing at Bakugou’s words. You did not at all expect a reaction like this. You didn’t know him for long, and you were well aware that you were on a good side that very few saw, but that comment was out of character for him. Or maybe, rather than being out of character, it was a new side of Bakugou even fewer people saw. You wondered if Kirishima had ever seen this side, or if this kind and patient attitude was reserved for the people he was most fond over.

Could this comment really be the key indicator in demonstrating that Bakugou had feelings for you? The anxiety and doubt that was ever so prominent in your life washed over you like a wave trying to rationalize why Bakugou would say something like that without concluding the specialness it held.

While you panicked, Bakugou began packing up his bag, putting away his laptop and notebook. He could see the gears turning in your head, and he knew that his comment pushed past the walls each of you set up in your friendship.

But maybe he didn’t care. However, it’s not like you could tell with the earbuds in that prevented you from reading his mind.

“You ready to go?” He asked while you stared into space like an idiot. He leaned into your line of view to bring you out of it.

“Huh?” You blinked a few times before locking eyes with the blond. “Yeah,” Your hoarse voice croaked out. Your throat had gone drier than you expected. You grabbed your bag and water quickly, “Do you want to go train at all?”

Bakugou looked out the windows, watching the sun start to set. “It’s a bit late, and I’m sure dinner is ready by now.” He looked down at his phone, “I can’t believe it’s almost 7:00.”

“Really?” You inquired, leaning toward him to check the time on his phone. “Damn, I didn’t expect us to be here so long.” You moved back to give yourself room to stretch. “We’ve been sitting for so long, I feel like I should do yoga and go on a run just to make up for it.”

Bakugou smiled at you, much kinder than you would expect him to. You felt the butterflies once again flutter in your stomach as you turned away to hide your face. Your cheeks were hot, and your mind was rushing quickly with ideas of what today meant. You definitely needed to talk to Ashido.

“If you’re still up for it after dinner, I’d love to go with you to the gym,” Bakugou offered.

“Is the gym usually busy at night?” You asked, trying to brush past his proposition. The idea that Bakugou wanted to spend more time with you than he already did was driving you crazy.

“Hmm, good question.” Bakugou started. “There are a few different ones on campus so that some can be reserved for groups or training sessions with teachers, but I don’t think a lot of people go after dinner. If you’re worried about that, we can always go to the track and use the yoga room which is always quiet and chill.”

You shrugged your shoulders and smiled at the red-eyed boy, “Either sounds good! Now let’s get back so I can eat.” You pouted and rubbed your stomach.

Bakugou snorted at your behavior before leading the way and opening the door for you. The conversation between you two flowed easily, with it mainly revolving around the class and the sports festival.

When you arrived home, you were each greeted by your classmates. Bakugou didn’t bother to reply to their greetings and instead rushed upstairs to drop off his things. You, on the other hand, immediately went to Ashido’s side.

“Bathroom, now.”

You pulled her away from Kirishima’s side and led her into the bathroom before checking to make sure no one else was in there.

“You and Bakugou didn’t even hide that you came home together, literally in front of everyone,” Ashido said before you even had a chance to speak.

“I know!” You exclaimed, smiling widely at the idea. You looked from Ashido to the mirror and checked your appearance, luckily, you still looked just as good when you left. “We literally hung out in the library for over 3 hours, talking about the sports festival, other shit, and being way too close to each other.” You turned back to your friend.

Ashido shook you in excitement while she squealed. “Are you going to give me details or what?” She asked after finally letting you go.

“Yes, of course, okay.” You tried your best to collect your thoughts. “First off, we were watching videos on his laptop, so we were sharing his earbuds and sitting so close that our shoulders were touching.”

“Oh my god!”

“Not only that,” You continued, “But anytime our shoulders did brush, I could tell that, although he was focused on the videos, he was also nervous because of how close he was to me.”

“No fucking way!”

“I know!” You practically shouted. “And you know how I am interning with Shinsou,” She nodded, “He literally was jealous when I brought it up. I didn’t even have to touch him to know because he was pouting, getting defensive, and just clearly upset.”

From per excitement, Ashido practically jumped around the bathroom. “Y/L/N-chan! I think Bakugou likes you!” She spoke in a sing-song voice. The smile on her face was just as wide as yours and you felt your cheeks heat up again.

“You think?” You asked.

She nodded fervently in response.

“Well, guess what?” You began, “I brought up doing yoga and running after dinner and he literally asked to join me.”

“You are literally going on a date,” Ashido immediately insisted.

“No, I’m not!” You sheepishly replied, scratching at your face and looking away. “That’s a little much.”

“Sure,” Ashido mocked you. “And sky totally isn’t blue.”

You rolled your eyes at the girl and waved her off. “I just want to take things slow,” You explained.

Ashido leaned in closer to you, “And that is why you are a great match for him.” She smiled widely, “I totally bet you guys will be together before the end of the year.”

You laughed, “Don’t make a bet on my relationship.”

“Okay, okay,” Ashido held her hands up in defeat. “But just know I’m in your corner.”

You smiled at your friend fondly before changing the subject. “Anyways, I’m hungry. Do you know what is for dinner?”

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #my hero academy #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #bakugo katsuki #bakugo #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo kastuki x read #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo fanfiction #bakugou fanfiction #bakugo katsuki fanfiction #bakugou katsuki fanfiction

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nomnomsik · 5 years ago

Text

Departure | M

Synopsis: As a flight attendant for Korean Air, you’re scheduled for a thirteen-hour flight to Japan. However, things get intimate between you and your partner and co-pilot, Jeon Jungkook, when he realizes Park Jimin, the famous idol from Korea, broads the plane and blatantly flirts with you.

Pairing: Pilot!Jungkook x Flight Attendant!Reader, slight Idol!Jimin x Reader

Word Count: 6.2k

A/N: Happy birthday, @moonpeachhy ! To fulfill your cute bunny fantasies, you FURRY. Jkjk. Enjoy the fluff with the husband you’ll never have. I love you~ I hope my fic isn’t too boring 😉

Tags: Smut, flirting, slight dirty talk, hickies/markings, blowjobs, kissing, fluff, pwp tbh, lap grinding, and possessiveness/jealously. Jungkook being lowkey a yandere.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Ahh, Jungkook… N-not-”

“Shh, just a few more minutes, princess. Pleaseeee…?”

Cramped in a single seat of the Korean Air Airbus A330-200, you were up against Jungkook’s muscular chest, hands tightly holding onto the shoulder of his crisp white uniform. The cockpit of the airplane was narrow, with dozens of intimidating switches and levers behind you as Jungkook’s head fixed itself on your neck.

Warm air wafted around in the cockpit as your head tilted to the side, your hair slowly unwinding away from the ribbon that secured it together. The sky blue uniform that hugged your curves crinkled against his chest and lap, wrinkling as Jungkook nibbled and kissed the skin of your neck, sucking until it turned a shade of red. You winced in his lap, knuckles turning white as you shuffled uncomfortably in the tight space.

“I’ve told you my ascot t-tie doesn’t cover them well…! Jungkook-”

“Don’t worry so much, princess.” He cooed, removing his mouth only to stare up at you with his clouded eyes. “You’re always careful around passengers. I’m not worried.”

"S-still…! It's ticklish."

Jungkook broke out in a cute bunny smile, cheeks protruding out as he giggled, trying to keep you in place. Your face only flushed, eyes glaring daggers as you pushed yourself up and out of his hold.

“Wait, where are you going?” He pulled you back into his sturdy chest, his grip strong on your arm as you fumbled forward. “We still have thirty minutes, princess. Compared to the thirteen hours I won’t be able to have you… Please?”

“Jungkook, we have thirty minutes until departure! I have to go greet the passengers." You exasperatedly whined, trying to make your way out of his vice-like grip. Jungkook’s face broke into a pout as both of his hands held your wrists down, refusing to let you go.

“B-b-but… I’ll miss you…” He sulked, staring up at you as your heart leaped and a second later, melted. You squished both of his cheeks with your hands as his eyes widened, his mouth forming fish-lips. The adorable sight was too much for your fragile heart and you leaned forward, placing a small kiss on his lips. He happily obliged, moving his hands up to behind your head, deepening it immediately.

When you finally disconnected from each other, you stood up this time, finally getting your high heels onto the floor of the plane. You brought your arm to your mouth, shyly wiping the leaking saliva and fixing your hair. Jungkook watched as you smoothened your uniform, only to get up himself, his eyes catching one of the airplanes on the runway that ascended into the air, its wheels slowly winding back into the body.

He adjusted the cuffs and brushed his hands over his white dress pants, redoing a button on his uniform that had popped open. Before he could fix his fringe, you called.

“Jungkook, do I look alright?”

He turned around to your nervous fidgeting and steadied you by the shoulders. His eyes darted up and down, then side to side as he tugged on the ascot tie that gently hung around your neck. He slid it down, his expression hardening as his fingertips tried to pull the cloth to increase its width. The knot was tight and he scratched at it, hoping for it to unwind.

“It really doesn’t cover well…” He muttered, only for your face to flush as you grew worried.

“Jungkook…!”

“Ahh, this is annoying…” He glowered, finally getting the tie undone and rewrapping it softly around your neck, hiding more of your marked skin. With the tie secured on, your hand came up to feel it, giving it another tug. “Okay, it looks good now, princess. Try not to get caught.”

This is your fault though…

»»————-　♡　————-««

With a wardrobe of his caliber, he was easily recognizable. From the Saint Laurent boots that clicked against the tile floor and the Chanel necklace that dangled around his neck, Park Jimin was immediately spotted.

Jimin's leg bounced up and down in the LaGuardia airport as he leaned back in his stiff chair, waiting for his flight to be called. The gate was filling and bustling with people, most busying themselves on their electronics, chatting away, or eating some last-minute meal. There was always the crinkle of plastic and the squeals of children that slipped past and through his earbuds. People constantly walked by him in the enormous airport, some sharing glances with each other and muttering whispers as Jimin minded his own business, scrolling through his phone.

“Hello, this is Gate 330,” A female voice spoke into the intercom, echoing all around the section he sat in. “We will now be boarding first-class and unaccompanied minors. I repeat, we will be boarding first-class and unaccompanied minors.”

Jimin stood up from his seat, stretching his arms in front of him before throwing his bag over his shoulder as his heels clicked against the floor. He sauntered over to the small, yet growing first-class line, sunglasses covering his eyes as he patiently waited behind several people. As he got to the front, his ticket was scanned, micro-perforated and swiftly cut, and let in to pass.

“Please enjoy your flight.” One of the female staff spoke, her cheeks slightly tinted red as Jimin gave her a small and perceptive smile.

He gave a polite nod to all the staff, walking down the jet bridge ramp as he looked through the clear windows. Outside displayed dozens of airplanes, all orderly and waiting at their respective gates. Jimin’s hands came up to his head, readjusting his beanie and pushing back up the bridge of his sunglasses. He stared at the ground below him as the soft, yet thin carpeting of the ramp concernedly shook with each slow step he took.

As Jimin made a left-hand turn, he was greeted by the entrance to the plane as well as the staff who stood by. He ducked his head as he boarded, acknowledged with hellos and welcomes. With a smile on their lips, Jimin smiled back at them, his eyes glancing at each face of the plane staff.

Jimin took in one of the particular woman’s appearance, his eyes swiftly sliding from top to bottom as he turned back to the vast expansion of rows in front of him. A smirk graced his lips while he searched for his seat. Even in the short instance he took in your appearance, he noticed your flushed cheeks and the slight pink marks that poked out from underneath your ascot tie.

As Jimin plopped in his seat in first class, he laid his bag down, lying on his seat and reclining it back. When his eyes softly closed, his lips were still curled upright. Having dealt with his fair share of men and women, Jimin was way too familiar with those cute little marks that were littered all over your neck.

Maybe he wouldn't mind this flight after all.

Meanwhile, you wanted to scream. The thumping of your heart was rapid, your chest tight. Your eyes had deadlocked and met Park Jimin's crystal clear eyes. Park Jimin… Your body grew warm and you couldn’t help but shudder. Korea’s famous solo artist had noticed you. You could remember all his fans tweeting to stream his newest release, but right now, all you wanted to do was sink your head into the nearest stream and drown.

Your fingers hovered over the mark on your neck, wondering if the silky ascot tie was actually covering it properly. His eyes had travelled down your figure, fixated on your neck. There’s no way he had seen it, right?

There was a rush of humiliation and embarrassment that the person you looked up to possibly had seen it. The slight upward pull of his lips as his eyes lingered to the marks… Now that you thought about it, getting revenge on Jeon Jungkook sounded like a good idea if it was the last thing you did on this flight.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“So, you really took your time with y/n in here.”

“Hyung… You aren’t mad, right?” Jungkook whispered, looking up at the captain of the aircraft with doe eyes.

“Jungkook, just because you’re in the cockpit, doesn’t mean…” Namjoon trailed off, coughing into his fist at his lame joke. “Just… Keep it in your pants.”

“Hyung! I haven’t-”

“Don’t ‘hyung’ me, mister.” Namjoon sighed, flipping several switches of the aircraft. “I have to sit in this seat for the next eight hours. Jungkook, how could you do this to hyung…” He dramatically sighed.

“Hyung, I’m sorry! But, I really didn’t do anything!” Jungkook desperately persuaded. “It’s not what you think. I promise!”

“Jungkookie, why couldn’t you have thought about hyung?” Namjoon, fake teary-eyed, cried out to the younger.

Jungkook gave no comment as he stared straight ahead, hands on his lap. As Namjoon chuckled, the younger’s face seemed as if it was about to explode with embarrassment. Jungkook, being the younger of the two, had always been the timid one, preferring to learn from Namjoon with each flight they took around the world. The mere hundreds of hours Jungkook had accumulated didn’t even touch Namjoon’s tens of thousands of hours in the air.

“You know I’m just teasing, right?” Namjoon asked, recomposing himself back to normal as he placed a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.

“I know, hyung… You’re just so mean, you know that?” Jungkook pouted, sulking in his seat as he looked off to the side.

Namjoon laughed, small dimples appearing on his cheeks as he turned back in the main seat of the cockpit.

“I can’t help myself when you always give the best reactions, Jungkookie.”

“Yes, yes, captain.”

“I’ll be counting on my best co-pilot for the next eight hours.” Namjoon winked at the younger, who only stared at him with awe.

“Oh, c’mon hyung. I bet you’ve had better co-pilots than me. Don’t lie to me like that.”

“Jungkook, I wouldn’t lie to you.” He smiled as Jungkook suddenly hesitated to believe him. “I know you usually take the takeoffs, but I think it’s time for you to step out of your comfort zone. Don’t worry, trust yourself. I know I do.”

“Yes, captain,” Jungkook responded solemnly, clouded with worry as he assisted Namjoon for their takeoff.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Everyone’s boarded.” You clapped your hands together, watching as Taehyung slid the entrance to the plane shut. With permed black hair, a radiant smile, and a dark navy-colored suit, he met your gaze, a mischievous grin hiding beneath his lips.

“Wow, are those marks even human?”

You turned around, slapping your neck as you caught the devilish smile on his face.

“Ugh, wipe that stupid grin off your face, Taehyung.” You rolled your eyes, walking over to the galleys, the sound of utensils clicking in the so-called “kitchen”. Taehyung joined you, fingers coming up to move the ascot tie further upward.

“Some was poking through.” He smirked, lightly tapping your forehead as you bent back, only to watch him scurry off to the front of business class. You could see the other flight attendants at the beginning of economy class, helping passengers store their belongings up in the upper compartments.

Taehyung was far in the business class section, energetically greeting all the wealthy passengers. He would ask them to buckle their seatbelts, even though the intimidating businessmen clicked their tongues, turning in the other direction. Unfazed, Taehyung would simply smile back continuing down the rows.

As your mentor, he often let you know not to take the passengers’ attitude as a personal attack. He saw your gentle and sensitive heart, your solemn attitude when meeting passenger’s needs. And although the initial judgemental glances from staff who had worked longer were rough, jealous of your role in serving first class, they eventually came around.

Stepping out from the galley, most, if not all of the passengers were seated. Families chatting and others blurring out the world with their earbuds. You reached for the prompter, getting a nod from Taehyung as well as confirmation from the cockpit.

“Testing… testing…” You started, watching as several heads looked up from their seats at you. You smiled at the ones you made eye contact with, chuckling when some looked downward or the other way. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us this afternoon over to Narita, Japan from Laguardia airport, New York.”

“The flight time is estimated to be about 13 hours and as we get closer to our destination, you’ll be able to see a more accurate reading from the screens in front of your seat.”

“Flying our aircraft today is Captain Kim Namjoon, assisted by his co-pilot Officer Jeon Jungkook. Meanwhile, the cabin staff has Hoseok in the back, Taehyung in the center, and myself, Y/n, up at the front.”

“Please direct your attention to the flight attendants in your section as we go over the safety features of our Airbus A330-200 aircraft.”

“Seatbelts must be fastened at all times unless indicated, but then again, I know some of you enjoy not listening to us so feel free to take it as a suggestion. Do what you will.”

“If you don’t like our pilots, staff, our food, rest assured. This airplane model has eight exits: Two at the front of first-class, two at the front of business, two at the beginning of economy, and another two at the end.”

Taehyung and Hoseok directed their arms in their respective sections to all exits, unable to help the smile that appeared on their lips and the chuckles they let out. Smiles and laughs echoed from ahead of you as you continued, feeling the mood of the aircraft lighten up.

“Now with that out of the way, in the back seat pocket in front of you, there is a safety information card.” You lifted the card as an example, always amused how nobody reaches for it. “I know the majority of you are not going to read it, but in case you want to, please feel free to block your ears as I go over what it covers. The card outlines all the safety features that this airplane model provides and in case of an emergency, it would be extremely beneficial to have the knowledge beforehand.”

“In the rare event that our two wonderful pilots decide it would be more interesting to make a voyage in the ocean instead of a flight, life vests are underneath your seat and flight staff will assist you in case you need help.”

You, yourself, laughed, imagining Jungkook’s face at the back of your mind. Was he adorably fuming in his seat? Perhaps sighing as Namjoon teased him for the nth time? Laughing at your joke with you? Your thoughts are quickly moved to the side as you continued, projecting your voice into the loudspeaker.

“The black strap of the life vest will wrap around your waist and make sure you tighten it securely. Then, pull the red tab down and then blow into the red tube to inflate.”

You demonstrated on the life vest given to you as an example, pretending to inflate it at the end for presentation purposes only. Putting the lifevest to the side, you grab ahold of the prompter again, looking over at Taehyung who gave you a thumbs-up and a wink.

“In case of a severe drop in cabin pressure, masks will fall from the overhead compartments to stop the decompression. Extend the plastic lining and make sure it's securely placed over both your nose and mouth to breathe normally. Please make sure your handbag is underneath your seat, table trays are upright, and thank you again for travelling with us. This is a non-smoking flight, and it is a pleasure to serve you today and I guess... tomorrow.”

As you were about to put the prompter back in its spot, you stopped.

“Oh! I wanted to add: as a final message to our passengers, this is once again a thirteen-hour flight. If you find any of the cabin members appealing or attractive, rest assured, we come with many benefits if you ever decide to pursue a marriage with one of us here. You’ll have the luxury to be able to enjoy flying free. Thank you.”

You gave a cheeky smile to the passengers as Jimin met your gaze, laughing, his hand covering his mouth. When he noticed your eyes, he grinned, biting his lip and smirking. You quickly placed the prompter back in its spot, rushing as quickly as possible to the galleys and away from him, legs trembling and breaths quick as Taehyung and Hoseok joined beside you, waiting for takeoff.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“She kills it every time. I can’t believe it.” Namjoon laughed, his eyes squeezing shut as dimples etched into his cheeks. Jungkook hummed in agreement, only to be silent for a second, his eyes wandering as he adjusted his aviation headset against his ears.

“Why did it sound like she was offering herself as a marriage candidate though?” Jungkook glowered, his face morphing in a distressed expression.

“Oh, c’mon. I doubt anyone’s going to take it seriously, Jungkook.” Namjoon reassured, the younger hesitantly agreeing.

“...Right.”

“Can you make sure the wings and engine are ready for takeoff?” Namjoon said, buckling himself into the shoulder harness.

“Of course, captain.”

As Jungkook busied himself on his side of the cockpit, Namjoon connected to the air traffic control tower. Jungkook fixed the mic of his headset near his mouth as he gave confirmation to Namjoon, the loud sounds of the airplane engine firing up. The plane had disconnected from the jet bridge, tires slowly rolling away from the gate.

“Korean 086, confirmation for takeoff, please,” Namjoon spoke, his English coming off swiftly, awaiting for the ATC’s response. He backed out the plane as he looked at the three ground crewmembers, the marshalers, directing him on the runway.

“Korean 086, are you ready to go? We have a clear lane.” An American male voice answered back, linking to his headset.

“Yes sir, Korean 086, we ready for takeoff,” Namjoon replied, waiting for the takeoff lane number as he successfully pulled away from the other planes and gate.

“Got it. Wind 260 at 5, Korean 086, cleared for takeoff, 25-right. Start rolling, please.”

“Korean 086, cleared for takeoff, 25-right,” Namjoon repeated, following his lane number. As he turned to face Jungkook, he smiled brightly. “Ready for a long flight?”

“I was born ready, hyung.”

With only being preoccupied for a couple of extra minutes, the plane’s engines fired up. The conditions were perfect, the plane ready to ascend into the sky. Namjoon pulled down on the accelerator, the plane beginning to speed down the runway, gaining acceleration as both pilots judged the metrics before having a clear window for liftoff. When the plane began to fly off the ground, the wheels retracted into the body as Namjoon kept direction and speed in control.

The highway that was filled with cars shrunk smaller and smaller from the window of the passengers. The plane, high in the afternoon glow of New York, set its course to Japan.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Jungkook, we have to switch now.”

Namjoon leaned over to the sleeping boy who jumped awake, unbuckling his own harness as he stepped out of the co-pilot seat. The two swapped seats, Jungkook adjusting himself as he buckled himself in.

“Did you get enough sleep?” Namjoon asked, looking over and yawning a second later. Jungkook chuckled, some of his teeth showing through.

“Yes, yes. Hyung, now go get some sleep. They’re going to accuse me of not switching again.” Namjoon sneered, reclining his chair back with his hands folded in his lap. Within minutes, Namjoon’s head drooped, his breathing even as he drifted off.

It would only be six more hours until their arrival in the Narita airport, the flight lagging behind the estimated time. Jungkook sighed, scratching his scalp as he stared at the darkness of the clouds and sky. There was nothing worse than landing. He hated the way the airplane flaps flung up to go against the wind, the wheels harshly making contact with the runway causing the plane to shake and rumble, and the dice roll of nice air traffic control officers.

He wasn’t the best-spoken person, stuttering his way his sentences and feeling confused by unclear directions. Not to mention the nightmare of English. Sometimes he wondered if he was just too sensitive to comments that Namjoon seemed to brush off easily.

But before Jungkook could regress back into his negative thoughts, there was a knock on the cockpit door. Jungkook jumped, his body growing tense as he looked back for a second, only to look back to where he was flying. Due to instinct, his mind thought of the worst possibility on the flight, only to quickly ease out at the sound from the other side of the door.

“Jung… me.”

A whispered voice came from behind the door. Jungkook smiled, pulling the lever from lock to unlock as he listened to your heels click behind him. You closed the cockpit door as you came up behind his seat.

“How’s everything going?” You asked, handing him a glass of water. “Thought you might need a drink.”

“Thanks, princess. You’re a lifesaver.” He gulped down the water in one shot as he handed it back to you. You blushed, shifting your weight as your eyes glanced at the other seat.

“The flight’s been quiet.” Jungkook softly spoke as to not wake up his hyung. “How about the passengers?”

“I would say it’s fine if it wasn’t for Park Jimin calling for me every half hour. Drinks. Food. A casual conversation, or so he said.” You sighed dramatically as Jungkook rose an eyebrow. “Oh! And you, mister. Mr. Park Jimin gave me a look when he caught some of the hickies showing through! I can’t believe- Ugh, I’m so embarrassed.”

“Park Jimin? You mean the singer? He’s on this flight?” Jungkook asked incredulously.

“Yeah… Though, Taehyung’s covering for me, right now.”

“What do you mean, ‘a look’? Is Jimin bothering you?”

“I mean, I could sound like a narcissist right now, Jungkook.” You chuckled softly as Jungkook rolled his eyes. “‘Oh, look at me, I’m so pretty that even a singer was side-eyeing me.’ Yeah, I’m not that self-obsessed, baby.”

Although Jungkook would have normally accepted the joke about a man finding his spouse attractive, his jaw clenched as he began to grow irritated. He sometimes wished that you didn’t have to serve first class. Those rich, entitled, assholes always pissed him off. It was always the ones with money, wasn’t it? This wasn’t the first time he heard of passengers trying to flirt with you.

“Oh, would you look at that. Namjoon’s out like a rock.” You stated, breaking him away from his pessimistic thoughts as you looked over the eldest who was softly snoring.

“He’s probably stressed. I mean, he’s flying with me and all... ” Jungkook spat irritably, his hands tightening around the W-shaped yoke. His voice trailed off as he shook his head, counting his inhales and exhales. He didn’t want you to see him like this. Why did he have to feel so jealous and inadequate when he knew both of you were tied around each other’s finger?

“Are you okay, baby?” You rubbed his shoulder, feeling his muscles relax. “I’m sorry if I worked you up about Jimin. I know how you feel about some of the passengers…”

“Y-yeah, I-” He sighed, keeping his eyes straight ahead of him. “Sorry, I wasn’t mad at you or anything… As you can see, Namjoon gave me the landing for today’s flight…”

“Aw, baby… Are you stressed out?” You cooed, side hugging him in his seat.

“I guess you can say that… Namjoon always says how good of a pilot I am, but I never seem to be able to believe him. I sometimes wonder if I actually am.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jungkook. Of course, you’re a good pilot.” You persuaded, patting his shoulder. “Flying a plane takes a lot of courage and intelligence.”

Your fingers brushed through his hair as he continued to stare straight forward at the empty sky. You had hoped he would turn to face you, but he stayed stoic and still.

“Courage?” Jungkook scoffed. “Courage if you’re afraid of heights or planes, maybe.”

“Jungkook…” You sighed, your expression falling. “I wish you could give yourself more credit. It’s scary flying a plane… I don’t even want to imagine what it’s like if you make a mistake on a flight. You have nobody to blame but yourself. Whether it be a small plane and your life is taken away from you… or a big plane like this, where you’re in control of the hundreds of people’s lives here. And yet, despite all that, you still come to work every day, servicing millions of people.”

Jungkook remained silent as he simply nodded, finally looking up at you as he beckoned you over. His arms wrapped around your stomach from where he sat.

“I love you… You know that, right?” He whispered, releasing his arms as you squatted to match his height.

“Of course. You tell me every day, how could I forget?” You grinned, leaning in as he met you for a kiss. It was soft and tender with Jungkook’s teeth nibbling your bottom lip, the soft turbulence cutting the kiss short.

“Do you… want me to help ease away your stress…?” You teased, breath tickling Jungkook’s ear as his head snapped over to face you. Another kiss met his lips as Jungkook deepened it, slipping his tongue and tasting the mint-flavored candies that lingered.

You panted harshly, your entire body growing warm as Jungkook’s eyes grew hazy, much like this morning. Bringing your fingers to your ascot tie, you pulled it, letting the fabric unwind and fall onto your lap. Jungkook’s breath hitched at the sight of his work, your neck decorated with pink marks.

“I-I think you missed a few spots, Jungkook…” You gasped, running your fingertips over your skin. As your eyes wandered up and down Jungkook’s figure, he was tense, his legs shaking and hands clenched on the steering wheel.

“You couldn’t have waited until we landed in Japan, princess?” Jungkook groaned in a low voice, patting his lap as you straddled him. “Do you think you can stay quiet? We can’t be waking up Namjoon now…”

You seated yourself in his lap and before you could nod, Jungkook pulled away for a second.

“Wait-” Jungkook whispered, adjusting some of the switches in the plane. “I just need to make sure it’s on autopilot…” After a few seconds, Jungkook tilted your chin up to meet you in a sloppy kiss. Saliva pooled from the corner of your lips as your eyes fluttered closed, your hands clenched on his white uniform. You grinded your growing arousal against his dress pants, feeling lust take control.

“Tilt your head back.” He moaned breathlessly, fixating his lips on unclaimed skin. You winced as his teeth pierced your neck, only to be soothed by his kisses. “Fuck… you looked so good on my lap. Do you think you can ride me, princess?”

“H-here? It’s really tight and cramped-” You started, only to jump as Jungkook’s hands left the steering wheel and instead on your ass. “My uniform, Jungkook…!” You whispered harshly, swatting his hand away.

“I don’t care about this damn uniform-” Jungkook seethed, slapping both hands on your ass. “It would be better if you had it off. You have no idea how badly I wish I could bend you back and-”

You clamped a hand over his mouth as heat surged to your face and ears, heart thumping loudly in your chest.

“Do you know what you’re saying…?!” You hissed, only to hear the unbuckling of Jungkook’s belt.

“Look what you did…” He muttered, releasing his erection as he gave it a few pumps with his free hand. “Actually don’t ride me. Want to take care of this for me with your mouth, princess?”

You gulped but nodded fervently as you took him in your mouth. Jungkook bit back his lip, holding back his loud moans as his mind went blank. He was getting breathless under your gentle fingers stroking him back and forth and that damn mouth. Shit, he could feel his legs going numb. The sight from where he sat was so arousing as you bent down in front of him, sucking him off while everyone was sleeping.

If only Namjoon was flying right now… He would drag you to the nearest staff bathroom and ravage you, pull your hair back and leave you a mess. Shit- He was getting closer and closer just thinking about it.

So what if people heard? At least they’d never flirt with you again. At least they’ll finally leave what belonged to him alone.

“Make sure you swallow every single drop. You can’t make a mess here. You’re the one that said the lives of hundreds of people are in my hands.” He smirked, roughly pulling you up for a sloppy kiss.

“You-!” Your voice muffled as he pulled away, only to feel your lips wrap around his cock again. He quickly hit the back of your throat as you gagged, lurching back. “J-Jungk...ook…” With your palms resting on his thighs, Jungkook bit his lip, suppressing his moans. Swirling your tongue around his slit, Jungkook flinched, roughly breathing out.

“G-gonna…” His breath hitched as he lowered his head to his chest, hands resting on the back of your neck. Jungkook made sure to secure your mouth onto his cock, coming in warm spurts. His breaths were laborious as he groaned, his head falling back against his seat. You struggled to lap it all up as Jungkook held onto your jaw.

“Open.”

With your lips parted, Jungkook grew aroused at the sight. Your cheeks were flushed red with white residue stuck to your tongue, slowly dripping down and out of your mouth.

“Messy girl.” He mused, wiping the cum off your lips with a quick swipe of the finger. Jungkook watched as you sucked his finger clean, looking up at him with lust-filled eyes. “I’ll spoil you when we land.” He promised, cupping your cheeks and kissing your temple.

You pulled a handkerchief from your front pocket, cleaning both you and Jungkook. The light turbulence made you stumble in the cockpit as Jungkook buttoned his dress pants back up.

“I have to clean my appearance up in the bathroom.” You murmured, getting off his lap as Jungkook gave you a soft and gentle smile, his eyes staring at his whole world.

“Thank you for doing that for me, princess.”

“Feel a bit better?”

Jungkook nodded, grabbing a hold of your hand and intertwining fingers. You squeezed his hand, not wanting to let go.

“I really have to go now, baby.” You whispered at him, reluctant to let go of him. He hummed, flipping switches on the plane as you look over at him from the entrance of the cockpit door and the sleeping Namjoon before softly making your exit.

»»————-　♡　————-««

It would be half an hour before landing with the beautiful afternoon sky of Tokyo greeting them. He could see the massive airport that was Narita, keeping a reasonable distance and high altitude behind the plane in front of him, waiting for it to descend.

It took a couple of minutes, watching as the plane below him finally descended onto the runway. Jungkook adjusted the aviation headset as he connected with the air traffic control tower.

“Korean 086, clearance for landing on four-right.” Jungkook voiced into his mic, his Korean accent lacing each English word as he waited for air traffic control admission.

“Korean 086, could you please accept runway four-left?” A male answered, surprising him at the lack of accent. What was that word Namjoon taught him?

“Umm,” Jungkook started, his hand scratching the scalp of his head. “I’m afraid to say I’m too- uh… committed…? to four-right at the moment.”

“Do you have commitment issues, sir?” The man deadpanned as Jungkook felt his shoulders slump. What did that mean? Is that a no?

Why was it always him?

“Oh… um-” He murmured, feeling his cheeks heat up as his eyes drifted nervously in the cockpit.

He racked his brain for English vocabulary. Anything would be good enough. Shoot, shoot-

“It’s just a joke 086,” Air traffic control responded back at the lack of response. “Wind 260 at 2, runway four-right clear to land.”

Jungkook sighed in relief, voicing back.

“Cleared to land, runway four-right, Korean 086. Thank you, sir.”

Namjoon stirred awake, shuffling in his reclined seat as he rubbed his eyes. Jungkook kept his gaze on the long strip of the runway, flipping several switches as the plane’s flaps opened. The landing gears retracted out as Jungkook’s body tensed.

Namjoon fixed himself up as he checked the meters, cautiously eyeing Jungkook who finally made contact with the ground. The tires screeched against the runway, creating dark skid marks as the plane reduced its speed. The vibration of the plane was limited compared to other landings, a smile appearing on Jungkook’s face.

“Smooth point of contact,” Namjoon muttered under his breath as Jungkook connected once again with the air traffic control tower.

“Korea 086, waiting for gate directions.” He called, listening to the rustling of papers and the murmurs of controllers.

“Please wait, 086. Delta 049 is about to take off... Actually- please start rolling to gate 201.” A woman with a hint of a Japanese accent answered back.

「ありがとうございます, 奥様。Thank you, ma’am, 」Jungkook shyly responded back, earning a grin from Namjoon who looked at him like a proud father.

「あら、日本人ですか？Oh my, are you Japanese?」The woman asked cheerfully.

「あーごめんなさい。韓国人です。 Ah, I’m sorry. I’m Korean.」

「日本語上手ですね！You’re Japanese is really good!」

「ありがとうございます。Thank you~」

As Jungkook maneuvered the plane to gate 201, he watched as the marshalers directed him into the spot, connecting him to the jet bridge. When he was securely and safely parked, he connected to the main prompter system of the plane.

“Hello, everyone. This is co-pilot Jeon Jungkook. We now have arrived at Narita Airport, Japan.”

Your head snapped up at the sound of his voice, looking at the restless passengers who wanted to leave the plane. His English was accented with some slur of his words, which you found adorably cute. There was an evident lisp in his voice whenever he spoke any language. That was your Jungkookie.

Your gaze seemed to fall on Jimin who lazily sat up in his seat, searching for his bag and brushing his hand through his hair. He stretched his hands over his head, shirt riding up as the skin of his stomach began to show.

“My wife and I… I mean, Y/n and I hope you have had a satisfactory flight. Have a wonderful day, and thank you once again for flying with Korean Air.”

You felt your eyes widen as Jimin seemed to look up from his spot too, his expression stunned, his arms coming back down. Your face grew hot as Jungkook’s words registered in your ears, repeating over in an endless loop in your head. Balancing the weight of your feet, you scrambled back to the galleys, rushing past and into the already unlocked cockpit. Namjoon laughed as the two of them turned around, your cheeks tinted pink and lips quivering.

“Jungkook!” You shouted, marching up to the man who stared up at you with warm and loving eyes. “Why- I- You never tell anyone-”

He simply stood up on his feet, wrapping his arms and giving you a comforting squeeze. You were rendered speechless as he spoiled you in affections.

“I love you…” He murmured, pecking your lips as you snuggled yourself in his chest.

“Can you at least let me out?” Namjoon chuckled awkwardly, the two of you flinching and growing embarrassed, making way for him to leave. “Also, don’t take too long! We have to see off the passengers.”

“Hyung, what do you think I was going to do?!” Jungkook whined and huffed, following him out as you laughed at the pair. Soon enough, all the cabin members were standing in front of the entrance to the plane.

As you waved and thanked each of the passengers, you spotted Jimin walking down the aisle, his sunglasses covering his eyes. He stopped in front of you, tilting his head to his side as his signature Chanel necklace dangled around his neck.

“It’s a shame I can’t take you up on that marriage proposal offer. But my mileage sure does go over a few hundred thousands.” He smirked, lowering his shades as he gave you a wink. “It was a pleasure being served by you, y/n.” With that, he turned his heel, walking off the plane and through the jet bridge to the airport.

Jungkook scowled at first, only to pout, pulling you close to his chest as you stood flustered, head dizzy. Should you be flattered at such a comment in front of your husband?

“If only he saw the mess I made with you in the cockpit... ” He muttered under his breath, bitterness lacing his tone.

Don’t you dare.

As time went on, slowly all the passengers gave their farewells and the plane was finally empty. With the final flight of the day done for your crew, everyone went to grab their belongings. Jungkook came up to your side, bag in hand as his other hand reached for yours. You looked over, instinctively wrapping your fingers around his.

“What should we do? Do you want to check out the stores here?” He asked excitedly, pulling you along into the large airport. “I heard you can’t find the things here in any other country.”

“Anywhere is fine if I’m with you, Jungkook.” You giggled, matching his strides. Jungkook looked over at you, stopping in the middle of the large airport, his face as if he was on the verge of crying. He suddenly hugged you tight, his bag falling beside him.

“You okay?” You asked worriedly.

“I just… I love you…”

“I love you too, Jungkook.” You giggled at the boy whose eyes were teary.

“I don’t think I can ever stop falling in love with you, princess.” He whispered as you couldn’t help but grin, leaning in for a kiss.

“Then don’t…”

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts fanfiction #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook smut #jimin x reader #bts scenarios #pilot jungkook #namjoon #bts namjoon #bts fic #bts fluff #jungkook fluff

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vanillafrog · 3 years ago

Text

Stress in the Headquarters

Pairing: Javier Peña/You (AFAB Reader)

Summary: Javier is nothing but a man who has his very specific forms of stress relief. When abstaining from one, his tension just seems to increase without stop. So you decide to help. After all, it might just be your fault slightly.

Word Count: 1796

Warnings: Smut!! M receiving Oral Sex; lowkey public but the blinds are closed

A/N: You may be wondering why I write so many Javi fics. The reason is because I like to ruin @barricade-gal :)

Javier Peña was a man built of stress and tobacco. More of one than the other on most days. There were very few moments in his life where there was an absence of stress and those moments were usually found under sheets with strangers that he paid for. But recently, he no longer found himself emptying his wallet on the Bogota streets.

Everyone knows the classic tale of the man whore who found chastity when he fell in love. Most of the time, those romcoms were nothing more than a romcom, something to make fun of at the end of the night. Javier never saw himself as the main love interest in such a thing but life was a funny way of turning things around.

The moment you began working under him, Javier had thought of a thousand different ways for you to work under him. A week after you came, he came in his hand more than a half dozen times. To say he was fixated was putting it lightly.

He knew his reputation better than anyone else ever could. After all, he was the one who made it like that in the first place. Javier also knew that if he did want a shot at you (though he shouldn’t try since you work together), he needed to clean up his act. After all, you deserved more than a man who couldn’t keep it in his pants.

So his main form of stress relief was tobacco and strangely enough, that didn’t work for everything he found himself frustrated with.

You wore a particularly tight skirt? He chain smoke a pack of cigarettes in less than two hours. You laughed at his joke and touched his arm? Well, he hoped he didn’t have to run that day. You leaned forward to show him something with the top two buttons of your blouse open? Javier would find himself in his office, head in his hands with a cigarette hanging from his lip as he tried to ignore the throbbing in his pants.

The moment you had turned twenty one, you applied to the FBI Training Academy and graduated with flying colors. You were put into the DEA without a second thought because everyone knew you were sharp. As eagle eyed as you are, you knew how Javier felt the moment his eyes first raked across your form when you met for the first time.

You could also tell that he was trying o find relief with cigarettes rather than whores to prove that he was more than just his reputation. So, you put it to the test.

You’re no evil mastermind, you would even argue that you were far from it. But you got a sadist pleasure of making him squirm from the smallest of things. And three months into your test of wills, he never broke once. Tension just built on top of already existed stress to the point of near seam bursting.

Javier was in his office smoking his fifteenth cigarette of the day when you walked in. His eyes subconsciously took in your form as you closed his office door behind you, locking it as you went. He watched as you shut the blinds as well but didn’t dare say something to you.

“How are you today, Agent Peña?” You asked once you were guaranteed some form of privacy in the office space. With your hands intertwined behind your back, your breasts were pushed out and it took everything for Javier to keep his eyes connected with yours.

“The same as always, hermosa.” He put out his cigarette as he leaned back in his seat. “Was there something you wanted?’

Javier was trying his best to stay calm but the moment you stepped into his office, his pants were ten times tighter than they were before and all the blood left his brain. Today you wore the tightest skirt you had to offer and your pink blouse (a noticeable favorite of his since it’s his favorite colors) had the top two buttons open. It was like you were the apple and he was Eve, more than willing to take a bite.

“It’s more of what you want,” you said with a sultry smirk. Your heels clanked against the hardwood as you started to walk behind his desk. “You’re been so stressed lately.”

He prayed you couldn’t see the way his cock strained against the denim of his jeans or how it twitched when you set your hands on his shoulders.

“We have a stressful job.” His voice was deeper now, thick with lust and there was no way he could hide how he felt with the warmth of your hands bleeding through the fabric of his shirt.

“Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be allowed to,” you brushed your lips against his ear making Javier bit his lip to hold back a moan. “Relax.” You nipped at his ear, lips trailing down to his neck. Javier gripped the armrests of his desk chair tightly, hoping it would ground him somehow. If this was a dream from falling asleep at his desk again, he didn’t want it to end.

Sucking and biting at his neck, you let one of your hands caress his chest. He was breathing hard and heavy, like his lungs couldn’t get enough oxygen to his head. They probably couldn't, considering the blood had left there minutes ago.

“Hermosa.” He moaned as your fingers brushed over his nipple. Javier shifted slightly in his seat, needing to relieve some of the pressure on his aching cock.

“I want to take care of you, sweet boy.” He whimpered at the nickname. “Won’t you let me?” Javier nodded, unable to speak with your lips pressed against him. Your hand found home in his head and you yanked back his head so he could look at you with hooded eyes. “You got to use your words, baby.”

“Fuck-“ he licked his lips. “Please take care of me.”

With a devilish grin, you dropped his head and spun the chair so he was facing you. He stared up at you with lust blown eyes and a deep flush spreading across his ears and coloring the tips of his ears. You knew that your time in his office was running out before it became suspicious so you fell to your knees and started to unbuckle his belt. Purposely rubbing against the bulge making Javier whimper.

“You’re going to need to stay quiet for me. Can you do that?” Javier nodded his head enthusiastically as his hand buried into your hair to hold you close to him. The sound of you unzipping his pants mixed his panting breaths as you nuzzled your face against his clothed cock. Javier bucked into you and softly apologized though you knew it was half hearted as he was too aroused to really notice his reactions.

He wasn’t wearing any underwear so his cock was instantly in front of your face and exposed to the cold air of the office. Javier was squirming, making it bob in front of you. He was big, like really big which made sense for the confidence he emitted whenever (which was always) he walked dick first.

You couldn’t help but lick your lips.

Leaning in, you licked a long stripe from base to tip that made Javier throw his head back against the seat with a drawn out moan. You wrapped your left hand around the base and swirled your tongue around the leaking tip, tasting his pre-cum. His hand tightened in your hair.

“Be quiet.” You mumbled before swallowing half of him causing Javier to let out a choked out groan.

He tasted of soap, hours old sweat, and something that was just Javier. You knew instantly you were going to be addicted to this. His taste, his sounds, the way he stretched your lips making you imagine how it would feel when he fucked your pussy. You wished now there was more time for that but you would have to settle for a few hours of burning arousal.

Bobbing your head, Javier softly bucked into your mouth, chasing his own pleasure. He quieted himself down but moans and whimpers still fell from his lips as he lost himself. Eventually he looked down at you on your knees in front of him. When did he get so lucky? How did he get so lucky?

You swallowed around him as your eyes met his. He let out a few curses and you felt him throb. There was no way he was going to last long, not after abstaining from anything like this for three months. Not when you are making him feel so good.

Your free hand cupped his balls and his mouth fell open as his brow furrowed. The throbbing intensified. You bobbed faster, rolling your tongue as best as you could on the pulsing vein. His breathing was even heavier as you pumped the parts you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Fuck, cariño, I’m going to-“ he didn’t finish before he pulled you farther down him making you choke slightly. He came in your mouth for a long time, forcing you to swallow as much as you could but still filling your mouth with his cum. His body shook as his felt his soul leave his body. Sweat ran down his flushed face as his back arched, hips stuttering against your hand.

Javier slowly calmed down, back meeting his chair again and hand dropping from your hair. You pulled off of him, he hissed. Instantly, he missed the warmth of your mouth. He wished there was a way he wouldn’t have to leave it ever even if that wish was impossible.

You stuck your tongue out at him, showing him the cum that you didn’t shallow. He watched transfixed as you made a show of shallowing. His now soft cock twitched at the sight. Gently, you put him back into his pants and adjusted his clothing before standing and placing a peck to his lips.

He looked confused and tired.

“I’ll see you after work, Agent Peña.” With that, you simply walked out of his office leaving the blinds closed.

Javier just stared at where you once were. He knew it from the beginning but now he had the proof he needed to know. He was fucked and he was now the main interest of a shitty romcom. Or a porn with too much story. He hoped that this time things would go well because he didn’t know if he could really handle any more stress.

He lit a cigarette and tried his best to read the files in front of him, ignoring the ticking of the clock with hours to go before he could return the favor.

#vanillafrog fics #javier peña #javier peña/reader #javier peña/you #narcos

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astralaffairs · 4 years ago

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french vanilla 01 | gilbert lafayette

title: french vanilla 01

pairing: lafayette x reader

words: 5.7k; this is probably going to shake out to be a trilogy :)

warnings: abundant sexual innuendos, hand fetish lowkey, maria reynolds’s abs, hugh grant mentions, painfully thick sexual tension

desc: you can’t quite place it – maybe it’s his unchecked confidence, or maybe it’s just his arms – but there’s something about your new dance instructor that makes your palms sweat and your head spin – which is, unfortunately for you, not the best combination while suspended two yards above the floor.

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @distinguishedpotsticker @fukaaaaaaaa @hereforthepsyche-assessment @ivetoldamillionlies @fangirl570 @thealaddinkid @lasciviouspeach @shy-and-awkward-daveed @rachelhermionerose @soft-weeb-s @gryffinclxw @anamrnk @daveeddiggsit @ayayayayana @marinovakovich @cryinghazelnutt @thefandomgirl03 @a-hopeless-fan @cloudywlw @tinywhim @lolidunnoaboutnow @siriusorionblackiii— lmk if you want to be added

You took a deep breath as you examined the door in front of you, the sign on it confirming that you were in the right place, despite the fact that you -- though you'd never admit it -- desperately hoped you weren't. You'd signed up for pole dancing classes on something of a dare, when you joking about it with your friends lead to you being challenged to really try it. And you never backed down from a challenge.

So there you stood, only feet from the door that determined the next two hours (and two hours every Tuesday and Thursday for the next six weeks) of your fate, ponytail tied tight at the back of your head, still just a bit sore from spending the past few weeks since you'd signed up trying to improve your upper body strength. (You'd quickly found out that you despised lifting, as well as that you were not in nearly good enough shape to continue doing it without every one of your joints aching for the following week.)

Your eyes darted to the clock that hung from the wall to your left, swallowing hard when you saw that if you didn't move soon, you'd be late. As much as you didn't particularly want to pole dance, you wanted even less to be late to pole dancing classes.

You reluctantly entered, less than thrilled to find the class both relatively small (you wouldn't be able to hide at the back just to tell your friends you'd gone) and filled mostly with fairly attractive women in their twenties and thirties. And just like that, you remembered why you preferred not to leave the house.

You dropped your gym bag off to the side near the door, bringing only your water bottle with you, and made your way toward the mass of people in the middle of the room, all stretching and chatting. All right, this wasn't so bad. You could work with chatty women.

"Hey." You approached one on the edge nearest to you, seemingly zeroed in on what she was doing, long, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, only having donned leggings and a matching sports bra. "Mind if I sit?" She looked up at your hopeful, if not slightly anxious, smile, and her expression brightened.

"Of course!" Her reply came slightly breathlessly, seeming surprised at your presence, but welcoming nonetheless. She nodded her head toward the space next to her, scooting over just a few inches, but the gesture wasn't lost on you. You gave her a warm smile as you took a seat on the polished hardwood floor, reaching out to stretch one leg. "First time?"

You turned your head to her with wide eyes. Was it that obvious? "Oh! Um, yeah. I'm kind of here on a dare, so we'll see how this turns out," you said with a nervous laugh, "What gave it away?"

She just smiled at you, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Might just take one to know one," she confessed, "I took a one-session beginners' class a few weeks ago with some friends, but I'm the only one who stuck around, so I think we're in the same boat right now."

You grinned at her. "Y'know what they say; two shipmates are better than one."

"Do they?"

You shared a slight laugh as you held your knee up toward your chest, extending your free hand toward her in greeting. "Y/N."

"Maria." She gladly took your hand, meeting your eyes with a friendly gaze, and you decided then and there that you liked Maria. Besides, you felt safer knowing that you had an ally going into this.

A loud clap and the shuffling of hands came from the front of the room, attracting all your attention. "Alright, ladies!" You lifted your head, breaking her gaze, to look curiously up at the source of the deep French accent, who was also presumably your instructor. Your eyes widened.

You'd been surprised enough that your instructor was a man. Registration had only given you a last name, and while you supposed the class hadn't specified that it was just for women, the lack of men attending the class made it feel strange that it was being taught by one. That wasn't the main source of your surprise, though. The man standing in front of you all as you sat up was, to be quite blunt, gorgeous. He had dark skin and a gorgeous smile, curls pulled back in an unruly bun, arms bulging through the sleeves of his less-than-loose t-shirt. If you'd been nervous before, it was nothing compared to how you felt then.

"It is good to see all of you eager and ready to get right into things. I am your instructor, Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch, Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette, but I am not expecting any of you to remember all of zat, so please, call me Lafayette," he greeted you all warmly, and you thanked whatever god was up there that he was the instructor, letting out a soft sigh. Otherwise, you thought, your gaze drifting down to the outline of his abs, the staring would probably have weirded him out by now. Though, you realized only moments later that you still weren't quite safe of that as you looked back up to his face, only to find him watching you as he spoke, an eyebrow cocked. You swallowed hard. From that point, though, while he continued talking, his smile didn't revert back from the smirk it'd become.

"I 'ave been a trained pole dancer for nearly seven years now, and 'ave been giving classes for more than three, so I can assure you zat you are in good 'ands with me." You had no doubt about that as he folded his arms across his chest, and you eyed the bulging veins in his forearms, his large hands -- perhaps being attracted to his hands bordered on skeevy, but your moral compass wasn't at the forefront of your mind just then. You couldn't help but admire his physique. "I will be spending ze next several weeks with you building your skills up from ze fundamentals into full pieces of choreography, 'elping you every step of ze way. You will become skilled pole dancers in zis class, although 'ow you choose to use zat skill is entirely up to you."

He gave a playful grin at that, eliciting a laugh from most of the women in the class, though Maria and you shared a weary glance.

"But no matter your choice," he finished, "I look forward to getting to know and to work with each and every one of you." He met your eyes as he said that, and while you couldn't imagine the words could've been directed at you, the intensity of his gaze had you tugging your bottom lip in between your teeth.

You could be in for a long six weeks.

Beyond that, though, you quickly learned that pole dancing was not nearly as easy as you hoped it would be, nor as easy as Lafayette (and surprisingly, Maria, though you should've seen it coming based on the size of her arms and her very prominent abs) made it look.

"Back straight, Y/N," Lafayette commented as he passed you. He'd learned your name about fifteen minutes earlier and had since used it on every opportunity he'd had to visit your side of the room. "Keep your hips out; it will make it easier to 'old ze structure of ze position." You huffed, pushing your chest forward and your hips back, your arms shaking as you struggled to hold yourself up, let alone maintain proper form. "Perfect. Now loosen your grip a little bit; swing your legs slowly around ze pole."

"I'm gonna fall if I do," you whined breathlessly, focused on your own conquest to not bruise your tailbone too much to glance up and take notice of how he was watching you. He laughed.

"Just try it. Do not worry so much." While you scowled, trying to pull yourself up a bit so as to have more room to slide down as you tried to swing around the pole, you heard heavy footsteps approaching you from behind. "'ere. Let me 'elp you."

You inhaled sharply as you felt Lafayette rest his hands on your hips. You glanced back nervously over your shoulder, found his face only inches from yours, a small smile resting on his lips, and you gulped, turning back.

"Go ahead; I will not let you fall. You can trust me." While you could feel your heart rate increase in the close proximity, your face heating up, you let out a shaky breath and nodded. You could feel his warm breath dancing over the skin of your neck as you loosened your grip on the pole, sliding down a few uneven inches, and began swinging your legs off to the side, little by little.

"Careful, chérie," his voice came from behind you, hardly a breath over your shoulder as his grip tightened on your hips, pads of his fingers pressing ever so slightly into your skin. He pushed you slightly forward as you slowly went through the motions. "Ah! Back straight."

You could still hear his grin in his voice but could do little more than scowl in your struggle. You pursed your lips, arched your back, and the pressure from his fingertips began to ease as you reached a suspended sitting position next to the pole, using your momentum to swing yourself around.

"Bon travail, Y/N," he said softly, his lips only a breath from your ear as he pulled back. Your heart pounded, grip still shaking, though you weren't sure anymore that it was only from struggling to stay up.

He went back to wandering through the rows of women, shouting tips and encouragement over the music with a wide smile, and it took all of your willpower to not stare at his retreating form. You repeated the move a few times, making sure you could get it on your own, watched the ease with which Maria seemed to go through it. Eventually, your face stopped burning (you didn't like having to admit to yourself why it'd started), and you went on with the choreography, Lafayette demonstrating the next moves. Your eyes widened as you realized how little you had of the skill the rest of the dance needed.

"Now do not worry, everyone," he called out, as everyone sat on the floor in front of him, drinking some water and resting. "I know 'ow intimidating zis looks right now, but none of you are expected to get it on ze first try." His words did little to comfort you as you glanced around the room, knew most of these women would probably be able to pull it off better than you would.

"And if you cannot seem to get it after a while, remember: I am 'ere to be your teacher. You can always," --he caught your eye at those words, the corners of his lips quirking up in a mischievous smile-- "Always, ask for 'elp." He shot you a wink at the end of his sentence, and while most of the women had already begun chattering to those around them (you caught snippets about not minding him helping them out, if you knew what they meant), you couldn't break his gaze, a chill running down your spine.

You couldn't quite place it just yet -- maybe it was his unchecked confidence, the tempter integral to his person, or maybe it was just his arms -- but there was something about your new dance instructor that made your palms sweat and your head spin -- which was, unfortunately for you, not the ideal combination while trying not to fall on your ass, suspended two yards above the floor.

_______________

"You were looking pretty good today, Y/N." Maria winked at you as you packed up your bag. You'd known her for only about a week, now, but had grown quickly attached to her, enjoyed getting to know her. The pair of you had become fast friends. You'd expressed offhandedly your insecurity being in that class alone -- albeit a pole-dancing class -- and she'd subsequently taken it upon herself to tell you how great you were doing about twice a minute.

You rolled your eyes at her with a laugh, taking a drink of water. "Not so bad yourself, Lewis." You wiggled your eyebrows at her flirtatiously, and she scoffed.

"Don't lead me on like this," she teased, "I just might get the wrong idea."

You only grinned, tucking your water bottle into your bag along with the rest of your things. "And if I want you to?"

She laughed, shooting you a wink as she turned to leave. "If you're interested, L/N, you know how to find me," she sang as she walked over to the door, flashing a smile over her shoulder as she shut it behind her. You laughed to yourself as she left, fixing your ponytail before zipping your bag. The rapport was all playful, of course, neither of you expecting the other to take your words as being in earnest, but candidly, you were struggling to figure out whether you'd rather screw Maria or be her. Either way, she was undeniably adding excitement to your life.

As you tightened your ponytail, you swung your bag onto your shoulder, phone in hand as you checked the time. You walked up to the front of the room as everyone began to slowly filter out, needing to talk to Lafayette before you left about your plans for the next class, and feeling astoundingly anxious to do so.

You found him off to the side chatting with someone you didn't recognize, another woman from your class, and his eyes met yours as you neared him. His expression lit up, brows raising and smile broadening as his eyes met yours, and while he nodded along halfheartedly to what it was he was being told, for the time being, it took him about half a sentence after that to wave her off with an "au revoir" that left her giggling. (You couldn't judge her; you'd heard his accent, seen his blinding smile. You'd be no different in her position, and you very well knew it.)

"Y/N, what can I do for you?" he asked, folding his arms with an easy smile as you approached him. You returned the smile, pulling your bag higher up on your shoulder as you reached him.

"Hey, Lafayette," you breathed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I just wanted to talk to you about next class." He arched a brow. "So, I'm not going to be able to make it here this Thursday; I have a board meeting for my job in the evening. I was just thinking, since I know we're working on like a full piece of choreography and everything, is there any way I can keep up with it outside of class?"

He raised his eyebrows, considered you for a moment. "Are your Wednesday nights free?" You pursed your lips, shook your head, and he let out a hum of discontent. "Alright. Zere is a video and walkthrough I can send you of ze next part of ze choreography, so zat you can learn it on your own time. Would zat 'elp?"

You smiled. "Yeah, that'd be great. Is the video of the whole dance, or...?" You trailed off, the question left unsaid, and he nodded as he began to dig through the bag he had left near the front of the room, slinging it over his shoulder as he did so.

"Oui. I can tell you which part of it we will be learning zis Thursday, so zat you can just follow along." He finally emerged from the bag, holding his phone with an easy smile. "Can I 'ave your number, chérie?"

Your eyebrows shot up. What had he just asked? "I'm sorry?"

"Your number?" he repeated, slowly that time, his smile widening, "So zat I can send you ze choreography for Thursday?"

Your eyes widened at your own foolishness, and you let out an anxious breath. Heat was creeping up the back of your neck. "Oh! Right, yeah--"

"Now why did you think I was asking you, hm?" He cocked a challenging brow, seemingly enjoying your reaction. "Did you think I 'ad some ulterior motive? Zat would be entirely inappropriate, chérie." Despite his words, his expression, his teasing grin told you he was amused by the idea, if not intrigued by it. However, you were winded.

"You just caught me off guard," you said, breathless, and he let out a light laugh.

"Of course." He glanced back down at his phone and up at you with an expectant gaze, and your eyes widened. He was still waiting on your number.

"Oh! Right." You gave him the string of numbers as he made you a contact in his phone. Finally, he nodded, looking up at you with a small smile.

"Thank you," he said, eyes shining as he regarded you, though, now, his mischievous gaze had begun to turn wolfish. "I'll be texting you, chérie."

____________

As promised, Lafayette did send you the choreography; the videos were more helpful than you'd expected them to be, considering the only place you had to practice was the bar that divided your doorway in two. (How foolish you felt doing it was extraneous to your ultimate goal.) Thankfully, the next Tuesday passed without a hitch. As did the next Thursday. You were getting noticeably stronger, or otherwise less helpless in your ability to stay upright; you were getting closer and closer with Maria, and more and more intrigued by Lafayette. He was abundantly friendly, and his ability to command a room was enviable, but your unfortunate sticking place was how it seemed he'd already become more than familiar with every woman in the class. He was chatty, obviously, but it was impossible to determine whether his flirty demeanor was unconscious, or whether he knew exactly what he was doing to you. You didn't know quite what to make of him, but you certainly enjoyed eyeing him from the back of the room as you pondered it.

However, his earlier words were stuck firmly in the back of your mind, regardless of whether they'd been sincere. He's your teacher, you reminded yourself, every time you caught yourself staring at his straining biceps when he demonstrated the choreography. It would be entirely inappropriate.

And while your rational mind was right there with you, more than ready to jump ship on the fruitless ordeal of pining after your gorgeous dance instructor with the even more gorgeous accent, neither your hormones nor your heart seemed to agree. While, yes, they understood very well how inappropriate the scenario was, their mantra was something more along the lines of, I'm so fucked.

To say the least, you were in deep.

You wiped sweat from your brow with the hem of your tank top as you retreated to your bag, Lafayette still shouting to everyone from the front of the class as they began to disperse, and you all but entirely tuned out his naive encouragement, reminding you all to keep up the good work. Instead, you grabbed a drink of your water as you walked over to find Maria.

"Hey." You grinned, taking a drink of your water, and she looked over at you with an easy smile, brow raised.

"Hey." She swung her bag onto her shoulder. "You find that any easier than I did?"

You had to scoff at the question, reminiscence painful despite her teasing tone. "Are you really asking me that, now? You're supposed to be the in-shape one in this relationship."

She grinned. "I can't pick up all your slack, L/N. A relationship is supposed to be a two-way street."

"Guess I'll have to step up my game, then." You had to remind yourself exactly why you'd approached her as she dug through her bag, pulling out a sweat towel, her abs flexing as she strained to support the bag in front of her. (You were getting progressively less sure you wouldn't be sliding into her DMs at any point.) She raised her eyebrows at you as she took a drink of water, waiting for you to continue.

You cleared your throat. "So, I was thinking, me and a few of my friends are planning on going to grab dinner after work this Friday, just to go hang out. Would you wanna join us? I think you'd like them."

She pursed her lips, and despite her nonchalance, her smiling eyes gave away how she'd softened at the invitation. "Yeah, I'm down. Where are you all going?"

"Dunno yet." You shrugged, but couldn't help your grin. You were just a bit too excited for Maria to meet your friends. "Probably just someplace downtown?"

She held your endeared gaze another moment before she spoke. "Yeah, sure, can you text m--"

"Y/N!" Both your heads turned as Lafayette approached with a wide smile, cutting off both your invitation and your eagerness to tell Maria everything there was to know about your friends. You hoped desperately that they'd hit it off. (You noticed in the corner of your vision Maria rolling her eyes as he approached.)

It seemed everyone else in the class had cleared out at that point, so he'd apparently decided that interrupting your conversation was appropriate. "Was ze video 'elpful?"

You let out a light sigh, nodded with a smile. "For sure. Thanks for sending it."

"Of course, chérie."

You pulled your bag further up on your shoulder as you glanced away from him, again meeting Maria's eyes. "So are we on for Friday?"

"Wouldn't miss it for the world." She grinned, threw you a playful wink. "I'll be sure to wear something tight."

"What is Friday?" Lafayette interjected as you laughed, and you turned to see his raised brow. Maria had at that point begun to leave, checking her missed texts; apparently, she didn't have much interest in sticking around to chat with Lafayette. You shrugged.

"Not much. Just bringing Maria out with some of my friends. No special occasion."

"And you did not bother to invite me?" He raised his eyebrows, letting out a mocking gasp, and despite being unable to stifle your smile, you rolled your eyes. "I am not sure whether to be offended."

"Sorry, Lafayette; this one's girls only." His facade of a pout grew. "Can't just violate the sanctity of ladies' night like that. Wouldn't be fair."

"So when do I get to meet the rest of your friends?"

"You've met Maria, haven't you?" He huffed, and your grin grew at his adverse reaction. You knew, by then, not to take Lafayette's quips as being in earnest, but you didn't have to avoid being entertained by them.

"Ah, Y/N, I see 'ow it is. Do not worry, I take no offense."

"Wasn't worried," you reassured him, digging through the side of your bag to retrieve your sweatshirt.

He let out a snort of laughter. "Now I take some offense."

"Why would you?"

He ignored that, continuing, "Perhaps I will 'ave to get Maria to invite me to her 'ladies' nights' instead. You would not be invited, of course, since I am apparently not good enough to penetrate your inner circle."

You didn't bother even to humor him, fishing your phone out of your pocket. "Buy me dinner first," you teased, tone dry, and he grinned.

"Per'aps I will."

____________________

You didn't think about that interaction even once before Friday. Though Lafayette and Maria both maintained a place in your subconscious, your dance lessons, your Friday plans, all slid to the back burner as you spent your time working day and night, redrafting and finishing a long-term report for your job. It happened to be due Friday, so that ultimately became your priority leading up to the end of the workweek.

Thankfully, after the exhaustion the past few days had put you through, no one had been all that invested in the idea of going out on the town, so your night out became a night in, watching tacky romcoms at low volumes on Eliza's couch and arguing over which Hugh Grant film was the best of his phases. (The answer was obviously Notting Hill, but to each their own.)

Maria was meshing well with your small girl group, much to your delight, but seeing the way she and Angelica had been making eyes at each other all night made you groan internally. (Angelica still had a boyfriend, mind you, but she seemed to have conveniently forgotten that detail.)

You were just reaching the first confession scene in Bridget Jones's Diary when your phone first pinged. Your instinct was just to turn it over, hide the glow of the screen in the couch cushions, but whoever had messaged you apparently had plans other than letting you all pine for Colin Firth's Mark Darcy. Your notification sound went off once more before you decided you had to turn it on silent -- that, and Eliza's glare when it kept going off had scared you into submission. (Did whoever was texting her not know that double-texting was a bother, or did they just not care?)

When you finally turned your phone over to turn the ringer off, your pulse jumped, and your stomach turned.

lafayette sent: hey

lafayette sent: u up?

However, after you processed the initial shock of seeing his name show up in your notifications, you couldn't help but roll your eyes at the content of the texts.

Y/N sent: are you deliberately interrupting my girls' night out of spite, or did you need something?

lafayette sent: your assumption hurts me

lafayette sent: i could never be so spiteful

Y/N sent: i'm sure

Y/N sent: other than the alternate girls' night you've decided to set up just to exclude me from it, of course

lafayette sent: extenuating circumstances :(

Y/N sent: how??

lafayette sent: you excluded me first :((

Y/N sent: isn't that like, the definition of spite???

lafayette sent: depends on your perspective

Y/N sent: don't think that's how that works

"Y/N," Eliza hissed, yanking your attention from the text string. You were sure you looked like a deer in headlights when you met her eyes, instinctively pulling your phone closer to hide the screen. "Either put that away or go to the kitchen; I'm trying to appreciate corporate Hugh Grant."

"Sorry for distracting you from your very important engagement," you grumbled as you picked yourself up from the couch, sliding your legs out from under where Maria and Angelica were all but in one another's laps. You eyed them with an amused smile before retreating from where your friends lay.

Y/N sent: anyway, why'd you text me?

lafayette sent: turns out working late on a friday isn't the party it's made out to be

lafayette sent: can you blame me for looking for a bit of entertainment?

Y/N sent: what happened to texting me being "entirely inappropriate"?

lafayette sent: didn't i just mention how bored i am???

lafayette sent: desperate times, desperate measures

You rolled your eyes.

Y/N sent: calling talking to me a 'desperate measure' isn't the way to stop me from blocking you

lafayette sent: my apologies

lafayette sent: but what's more entertaining than doing something "entirely inappropriate" on a friday night?

Y/N sent: the girls night that you weren't invited to

lafayette sent: hurtful

lafayette sent: i had to work anyway, so you would not have been graced with my presence

Y/N sent: why are you still at work??

Y/N sent: who the hell is taking dance lessons at 11 pm on a friday

lafayette sent: teaching dance isn't my only job

lafayette sent: i have to pay the bills somehow

Y/N sent: what else do you do?

lafayette sent: unimportant

Y/N sent: ah yes because that makes it seem less suspicious

lafayette sent: i am glad

Y/N sent: seriously tho, are you a bartender? secretly a cook at some fancy dinner place?

Y/N sent: a spy sent to infiltrate city hall by night??

lafayette sent: you are a poor guesser

Y/N sent: i don't have much info to work with

Y/N sent: that'd be like me telling you to guess what i'm wearing while i was dressed in drag

Y/N sent: you aren't exactly making it obvious

lafayette sent: what ARE you wearing? 👀

You inhaled sharply, heat creeping up the back of your neck as you leaned back against the kitchen counter.

Y/N sent: go back to work

lafayette sent: am i not exciting enough for you?

Y/N sent: i think you can find a different 'entirely inappropriate' way to spend your friday

lafayette sent: perhaps you're right

lafayette sent: i suppose my job fills the same purpose

Y/N sent: ?????

Y/N sent: you do know you're just making yourself sound more and more like some kind of criminal, right??

lafayette sent: goodnight, cherie

lafayette sent: i am sorry to leave you with your boring evening

Y/N sent: ur loss

lafayette sent: i cannot disagree

lafayette sent: dream of me ;)

Despite how clichéd the line was, you could, by then, feel your cheeks burning as you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth. You should've turned off the phone right then; he was done texting you, and it'd saved you a world of trouble, but your fixation on reading and re-reading the messages was your downfall.

"Who have you been texting?"

You jumped at the voice from the entrance to the kitchen, pulse spiking. There stood Maria, a skeptical eyebrow raised with an empty wine glass. You forced a smile, shrugged as she neared you, holding the phone up to your chest.

"No one. Just a friend."

She hummed in understanding as she walked around to your other side, reaching for the bag of Takis you could only assume Eliza had sent her to grab. "Seemed like you were having quite a reaction to texting 'just a friend.'"

She gave you a knowing smile that you couldn't help but return, despite rolling your eyes when she wiggled her eyebrows at you. "Don't worry about it. It's no one."

However, with how self-conscious and consumed in your own thoughts you were, you didn't notice her peering over your shoulder when you went to turn off your phone screen.

"Lafayette?!" Her whisper-shout directly in your ear had you flinching away, taking a step back when she reached for your phone. "You've been texting Lafayette all evening?"

If you'd felt embarrassed just reading his texts, by then, your skin was burning. Maria looked well-beyond intrigued, and you pursed your lips to hide your smile. "It's not like that. Let's go finish the movie."

You tucked your phone into your back pocket, turning to go with her back to your living room, but as deftly as you should've expected from her, she swiped your phone from your jeans, turning away to snoop through your messages before you could even begin to react.

"Maria!" you scowled, whirling around to find her wearing a mischievous grin.

"Now, what exactly is on here that you don't want me looking through?" She glanced back over her shoulder at you, her gaze teasing as she went and unlocked your phone. You would never have imagined this would be why you came to regret giving her your passcode.

"Give me my phone," you groaned, following her back toward the counter, your anxiety spiking alongside your fatigue. You were too tired to earnestly give chase. "It's just logistical stuff for class. It's not what you're thinking."

"Mhm." Her skeptical tone told you all you needed to know.

You buried your face in your hands when she turned back to you with wide eyes. "Y/N. Are you fucking serious?"

"What?"

"Why haven't you fucked Lafayette yet?"

"What?" You looked at her in shocked disbelief, brow furrowed. She only looked at you expectantly, apparently still looking for an answer, and you scowled. "Give me my phone back. C'mon."

"Listen, I'm the one who's had to listen to you two flirting every day after class; I think I'm allowed to have an opinion in this by now." Apparently, she was ignoring your pleas for her to leave your sex life alone for the evening.

"We have not been flirting. Don't be dramatic."

"He started a conversation with, 'you up?' That's how people start booty calls, okay? There is nothing platonic about this."

You rolled your eyes, reaching over to snatch your phone from her hands, and this time, she put up little resistance, if any. "That's just how he is. It's not personal. Have you seen the way he talks to every other woman in our class?"

She folded her arms, pinning you with a skeptical stare. "I can promise you he isn't texting the rest of the women in our class at 11 PM on a Friday looking for an invite to their place."

"That's out of context!" you argued, but she didn't seem convinced. "Can we just go back to the movie? Please?"

For a moment, neither of you said anything, and she pursed her lips. "Fine." She brushed past you as she unrolled the bag of Takis, throwing you one last sly grin over her shoulder. "But don't think you're off the hook, L/N. This is far from over."

"Duly noted." Your dead stare didn't discourage how smug she looked as you walked together back into your living room. You couldn't help but think that her snooping into your sex life was mildly hypocritical as you eyed how touchy she and Angelica had become in just a few short hours, but you decided to put it out of your mind. The movie only had about an hour left, anyway.

You pulled out your phone to check the time as Eliza leaned over to you on the couch. "What was all that about? We could hear you and Maria from here."

"Don't worry about it," you murmured, glancing down at your phone screen. The time read 11:24 PM, but when you went to power it off, a notification caught your eye.

lafayette sent: i know i'll be dreaming of you

284 notes · View notes

oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

Text

The Power Couple - hyung line

Pairing: hyung line member x reader

Wordcount: 1.2k words circa, each

Genre: romance scenarios/imagine

Rating: suggested 18+

Hello, my darlings, sorry I didn’t post last week but exam season is insane and I’m seriously struggling :(

Anyways, I’ve been working on these and I hope I’ll be able to write and post the maknae line during the next week.

Did you enjoy Bang Bang Con The Live? I watched it with my ARMY squad and since we were still craving BTS material afterwards we did a 5th muster rewatch, YAY!

Okay, now TRIGGER WARNINGS: not much this week really, just mild allusions to smut, (a bit more descriptive in Yoongi’s piece), there are some more explicit thingies (ahem, collar, leash, generic mention on toys, stress relieving quickie) and milder but possibly sexy thingies (slightly revealing outfits), mild angst in Joon’s piece (namely minor harassment, nothing descriptive). Watch out for: one tense, insecure and lowkey (highkey) kinky Joon, one very soft Jin, one very tired, very whipped Min Suga and the usual energy fluff ball Hobi (also kinky, though)

I love you all, please stay safe <3

Here you can find the maknae line

And here you can find my masterlist

Namjoon

“You know we don’t have to do this.”

You offered him the string. “What if I want them all to know.”

"_____, I love you and I repeat, I will only do this if it's what you want. You have to give this to me. I won't take it from you. I seriously don't want to force this on you." He fixed his tie, loosening it a little. He was nervous. The car was slowly arriving to the venue. A couple more minutes and you would be out, photographers screaming for your attention, celebrities surrounding you, women envying you, men wanting you. It wasn't the first time you attended a red carpet as Namjoon's plus one, but the previous attempt had peaked with a cocky rapper putting his eyes on you, flirting inappropriately while Joon was busy and making you deeply uncomfortable. As a consequence, Joon had kept you close for the rest of the night and had to give up on having you beside him for a couple events after that, since you didn't feel safe enough to attend.

However, this afternoon he had come to your room with a hefty velvet box, looking at you with complete rapture in his eyes.

“You look like a dream come true.”

“I hope it’s a good dream,” you replied, waiting for the stylist to finish fixing your hair in a classy bun.

“A very good one.”

You were wearing matching suits. Regular, black silk suits, tailored exactly the same, the only difference was the fact that you weren’t wearing any shirt underneath your jacket.

“Thank you.”

“I have something for you.” He came closer, the stylist done with your hair, bowing kindly as you made a small bow to her in reply, thanking her for her work.

“I thought we said no jewellery.”

“Well, technically…” He opened the box, showing you a collar of diamonds. “You don’t have to.” He said sheepishly. “Wear it, I mean. And I don’t want people to think that I consider you an animal that needs to be collared, or a possession. I saw it and I thought you would love it.”

“Yes. I love it.” You touched it gently with your fingertip. “I’ll wear it.”

He smiled so brightly that you knew all the negative comments would never cast a shadow on the overwhelming joy he was showing in this moment: you would do unspeakable things to make him smile at you like that.

“Can I put it on you?”

“Yes, sir.” It was half a tease, half an admission of his dominance over you. In the secret language you had created together this meant that you trust him and that you allow him to take complete control over you, that he is entitled to do whatever he wants with you. It was also a way to reassure yourself that he would protect you tonight, that he wouldn’t leave your side and that he would take care of you. That no man would ever lay his eyes and hands on you tonight.

He clasped it easily around your neck, the measure just right, and you suspected he knew because of the way he uses his hands on your neck, randomly, sometimes to soothe you and support you, some others to arouse you and gain his own pleasure.

The tension on your shoulders eased a little as you saw your reflection in the mirror. There was no doubt you belonged to him, that you were his. Still, some anxiety snaked in your belly.

“I don’t really wanna push my luck,” he said, looking down, breaking eye contact, “but I had a small thing made to match the… necklace.”

You looked at him curiously. “Can I see?”

“I know you won’t judge me but I feel very vulnerable about this and I thought we should talk it out before you…”

“I love you.” You whispered, calming his gibbering. “Show me.”

He lifted the board where the necklace laid, showing another compartment of the box were a snaky string laid, all coiled up. You took it and unwrapped it.

A leash.

He looked at you. “You don’t have to say yes, we can use it another time, or not use it at all.”

It means guidance, belonging, discipline. All things you needed tonight.

“Yes.” You told him, confidence sparking in your eyes.

That night, when you walked down the red carpet you felt nothing but the cold sensation of the metal around your neck, and the scorching pride in Namjoon’s eyes.

Journalists asked questions, people took pictures, but the only thing that mattered was what you felt: you were Namjoon’s equal, with your identical suits, and at the same time you were his beloved pet, someone he would cherish, guide, defend and protect.

Seokjin

“Ready?”

“Yup.” Seokjin smiled a tight lipped smile and wrapped an arm around your waist.

“God, they won’t take their eyes off of you.”

Tonight you were supposed to attend a film premiere of one of Jin’s friends. It got you slightly uncomfortable, since it was your first official event with him as a couple. Of course ARMY had already seen you a few times since the official announcement of your relationship, once at the airport, as you came back from a quick getaway you and Jin had taken, then then in a bunch of pictures, and then during a vlive, when you had taken a small visit to say hi and introduce yourself, letting Jin lead you through the whole event and giving you the cue when he thought he needed some alone time with his fans. He had been very tactful in the whole revealing, hiding you enough to protect you from harmful stalkers, but also introducing you to ARMY like a single dad would present his girlfriend to his child.

“Is the dress inappropriate?”

“No. You’re stunning. I love it.” He pressed his nose to your temple. “I’m just worried.”

You leaned softly into him.

“There’s so much skin here...” He let one finger slide down the curve of your neck. “Everyone will be looking.” He kissed behind your ear. “You could wear a rubbish bag and they would still be looking.” He wished he had more skin to touch, but he was also grateful your body was pretty much covered up, the delicate green dress exposing nothing but your collarbones, with long chiffon sleeves, the corset decorated with a leaf embroidery, stopping just above your waist and then flowing down in lush emerald waves.

“I’m glad I wore my white suit.” He commented,

“You look incredible, love.” You complimented him.

“I needed to show them I deserve you.”

You laughed. “I’m the one who needs to one-up her game to match you.”

The back of the limo was quiet as you created that special space of communion and comfort you naturally slip in when you’re both silent.

“You’ll be by my side all night, right?” You murmured, worried. “There’s a lot of people and I feel like such an outsider...”

“Right beside you.” He comforted you. “So they can’t snatch you from me.”

You both giggled, his voice betraying his anxiety. “It will take a major calamity to get me away from you.”

“Like a very big magnet.” You frowned. “You know, attraction.” Your frown intensified. “They say I’m magnetic. the only way to beat me would be a really big magnet.”

Your mouth stretched in a tight lipped smile, hoping not to show how much you loved his unusual sense of humour.

“Are you nervous?” You asked him.

“It’s been a long week. I was hoping we could just stay in and chill. Instead we’ll have to go through all of this while I’m tired and tense. I really don’t feel like being among people tonight.” He sighed. “My social energies have reached a new minimum.”

“We can be pretty and silent, hide in the background.” You held his hand and kissed it, careful not to smear lipstick on it.

“I doubt they’ll let us. It’s your first public presence.”

“They’ve seen me on your vlives, on pictures.”

“They’ll want to see you live, up close, see how you interact.” He twisted his wrist to intertwine his fingers with yours.

“Then let them watch. We’ll casually brush them off. ARMY know you, and they will get to know me with time, no need to reveal our whole life to journalists. Plus, it’s not like we’re the main event of the night.”

“As if, darling. They’ve been waiting for this for so long they’ll be like vultures. I wish I could protect you.”

“It’s good, love. We’ll have each other’s back. We just need a secret code to say when to run and hide in the closest broom closet.”

He laughed. “Usually Namjoon is so good, you know, he’s an extrovert, he takes care of all the press and journalists so well.”

“It must be reassuring.”

“He does all the talking, J-Hope drowns them in pretty smiles and positive energy, and Jimin gets flirty and cute, and that’s all it takes. I can stand on the side, jump in when I’m more comfortable. They ease the anxiety a lot.”

“I’ll learn from them. I’ll have them teach me so I can help you," You stated reassuringly.

“Just hold my hand.”

You reached the venue and exited the limo, suddenly immersed in the flashing lights of cameras, Jin extending his hand to you, helping you out of the car. He kept his palm against yours, “I got you.” He whispered in your ear, then smiling brightly at you and inviting you to walk forward, indicating you the red carpet with his free arm, bowing slightly with perfect manners. He charmed you all over in that second.

“Follow the stewards’ lead. They’ll tell you when to stop, when to walk, where to look.” You started strolling comfortably, close to each other. “If you wanna run, just squeeze my hand three times and I’ll carry you to the closest broom closet.”

You smiled at each other. The sounds of camera shutters multiplied infinitely. Not that you really noticed. You were too caught up in your man’s smile. As you promised, you grabbed his hand and never let go.

Yoongi

“How did it go?”

“The interview?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re gonna hate it.” He plopped on the sofa.

“Was it that bad?”

“They kept asking questions about you.”

“Like?”

“Saying my new music really reflected how you brightened my life or something.”

You laughed and sat beside him, passing him a cold beer, your own drink in hand. “They really love the whole ‘love redeems you’ anthem. They can’t stand the idea of self growth and acceptance.”

“It kinda looks like the beauty saving the beast, because of AgustD being a bad boy who met love and found the right path.”

“So dumb.” You clinked your bottles. “Still, congrats for finally finishing AgustD promotion.”

“Yeah, but this means that next week I’ll be in Los Angeles. I need to meet a singer for a collab.”

You huffed. Being his girlfriend is not easy. It’s a matter of carefully planning your schedules, continuously living with two different clocks on your phones set in different time zones, sometimes even wearing two watches at the same time, one at your wrist, the other a nice pocket watch that he had gifted you for your first anniversary, so that you could always “have his time”, as he said.

“Well, then we’ll have to make the best of this weekend.” You nudged him with your elbow. He smiled at you knowingly then took a sip. He zapped through some tv programmes, finally settling on the news. Right in that moment a small clip of the two of you came up, something about his album sales or the fact that he donated a percentage to a school that you had visited together a while ago for a project.

“God, you look amazing, babe.” He licked his lips and stared at you smiling wide at the cameras. They went on discussing your relationship, which to the public was quite new, even though the announcement had come shortly after your two year anniversary, that is about a couple months ago.

“That’s cause you make me look radiant.” You took a sip yourself.

“Really, look at that!” They showed a short footage of your first public appearance, at his side during a music award. “Beautiful.”

You smiled mischievously, brushing his knee.

“You remember that night?” He said. That’s exactly what you were expecting.

“Of course. How could I forget it? You left one-month-long reminders.” You remembered how you had to postpone your regular medical checkups because of the bruises he had left around.

“You were so good.” He praised, his eyes half glazed over, caught in a memory.

You felt emboldened. “I wish we did it more often.” You turned towards him.

“Look how pretty.” He ignored your cue, and it was quite probably intentional. “Showing all those tits to the world.” He gulped a mouthful of beer and clicked his tongue. “The interviewer’s eyes kept going downwards.”

Your dress was not improper at all. It covered everything that needed to stay private, the long sleeved, high neck bodice had just a central stripe of mesh fabric, starting at your collar and hitting a few inches above your belly button, which let the crevice of your breasts be vaguely outlined, just vaguely, and Yoongi had risked losing his manners and self control over it. Photographers had loved your overall vibe, looking adorably ethereal, your hair braided in a crown, your flowy gown matching Yoongi’s lace shirt.

But of course your bodice caused a fuss the day after in the news. Not that you really cared. Yoongi had loved it, clasping your hand like crazy anytime a man came close, but at the same time parading you in front of the cameras, moving you around like a delicate nymph -- which he would undoubtedly claim as soon as the night was over. He swam in the calm and femininity you radiated, your energy matching his. All it would take was a twist of a wrist, a tap of a finger and he would be directing you in posing, your bodies moving simultaneously, as if you were nothing but a puppeteer and his toy, him pulling at your strings.

The whole experience awakened a connection so profound and intuitive, instinctual, that as you reached your hotel room together you still felt those magnets pushing and pulling you to each other, turning your lovemaking into some complicated dance, then into wild, rowdy fucking where no words were needed, your moans and groans saying exactly where to kiss, bite, hit, grope and fondle.

“Are you thinking about it too?” He asked.

“I miss it so much.” You whispered.

“Do you want to?” He kissed your temple. “Need me to?” He used his spare hand to massage your scalp.

Still, you noticed the dark circles under his eyes. “It’s okay. You’re tired.” You leaned into his hand and nuzzled into him.

“It’s been three weeks. Usually you can’t go three days without it.” He kissed you again, delivering eskimo kisses on your cheekbone. The tenderness of it was slowly gnawing at your insides.

“But you’re tired.” You whined. “Let’s just chill.” You grabbed his empty bottle and cuddled beside him. A few minutes later he was deep asleep, his head propped against the sofa and his mouth open. You covered him with a blanket and held him tighter.

Hoseok

“Oh, sweetie! Oh, love! Oh, my god! My girl, so good!” Hoseok cheered you on as you descended the stairs, careful not to stumble on your dress.

“Thank you, Hobi.” You touched your hair, falling in soft waves on one side of your face.

“Seriously, ____, you look so fucking good, baby.” He took your hand to spin you around for him, examining you carefully.

“Oh god.”

“I can change if you need me to, there’s an alternative upstairs and I have time, I can-”

“No baby, it’s… wow.” He eyed again the slit on your gown, starting mid-thigh and exposing the side of your left leg cheekily. His eyelashes batted like crazy, his hands already reaching for your bum, cupping it through the tight, sparkly fabric. The dress had a siren gown, and since it was quite daring you had the stylist prepare an alternative, since Hoseok couldn’t see you in it and you weren’t sure of his opinion. It’s not like you needed his approval, or that he wouldn’t let you wear it, but you weren’t completely sure of it, and you needed him boosting your ego a little. One single sign of unsurety and you would dash to the bedroom to change. But his beaming smile and the way his eyes were glued to your skin made you understand he would be lowkey upset by your change of outfit.

He looked unreal. His baby blue suit was highlighted by silver details, matching the sober sparkles of your grey dress. He looked you in the face, hesitating one second before pressing a blazing kiss on your lips. It was scorching, resembling the usual bolt of energy between the two of you.

“I need more.” He whispered against your mouth, licking your bottom lip.

“You know we’re gonna fuck it up.”

“I feel like fucking you up.” He murmured, a little disappointed that you were resisting him. You could feel his arousal against your hip.

You simply laughed. “They’re gonna pick us up in less than half an hour. We don’t have all that time.”

“We can take way less than that, you know it.”

Quickies with him were… perfect. Hot, messy, reckless. Merciless. His pace could be devilish, ruthless. Still-- “We’re gonna be sweaty and sleepy afterwards.” You grabbed the hair on his nape gently, holding him away from your face.

“So?” His hands, once on your hips, now were on the small of your back and slipping lower.

“I don’t want them to see you all freshly fucked out.” You murmured with a pout.

“Oh, are you jealous or are you worried they’re gonna see you all freshly fucked out?” He asked, nagging you, squeezing your ass.

“I just don’t want you to.” You replied, pout intensifying to the point it dimpled.

“Baby is jealous.” He teased you, his voice doing that cute ups and downs it does when he’s being deliberately cute and bratty. “You don’t want them seeing how good you are to daddy?”

That word. He was playing it dirty, pushing all your buttons: possessiveness, praise and your daddy kink. “Hobi, I swear to God, if you don't’ stop now you’re not getting any later. And I’ve spent the afternoon charging all the toys.” You warned him. And you were pretty sure you would stay true to your warning. Not 100% sure, but sure enough.

“Can I at least see what you’re wearing underneath?” He squeezed your bum once more, as if checking for the signs of undies.

“What makes you think I’m wearing something underneath this? After all it’s so damn tight.”

“Sweetie… Do you really need to tease me like this! Such a bad girl!” He laughed and at the same time he fixed his pants. Your dress wasn’t the only tight indument at the moment.

You headed for the living room, grabbing your shoes in the process, giving him a glance that invited him to follow you.

“You’re wearing those sandals, aren’t you?” He stared at the box, a pair of stilettos emerging from it, their sparkly strings catching his attention.

“Let me.” He motioned, helping you wear and latch them onto your feet.

“You truly are a vision, ____.” He was kneeling before you, looking at you wide eyed, his sweet smile edged with admiration and pride.

“You sure you don’t want to get rid of some tension before we head there?” He caressed your knee with apprehension. His personal pleasure would just be a minor advantage, what he really wanted was to help you with your nerves, since a couple days before you mentioned how worried you were about attending to such a big event.

“I don’t think I could even possibly enjoy it right now.” You put your hand atop his. “But ask me later, and with the adrenaline of the night and the relaxation of being done with it, I might be very interested.” You smiled, faking coyness.

In that moment his phone rang, probably the driver.

“Then let’s pick up from here later.” He let his hand trail along the naked back of your calf, kissing your hand and helping you up.

You couldn’t wait for the event to end. And for your night to truly begin.

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mysterioushogwartsrequests · 4 years ago

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Could you write a fic in which George Weasley wants to invite his crush (a Hufflepuff girl) to the Yule Ball, but whenever he tries something gets in his way and he just can't find a way to ask her? He manages in the end tho

wI rewatched The Goblet of Fire because I needed to get in the setting for this one, lol 😂. You guys are great with requests, I love writing these scenarios.

Let me know what you guys think! I’m trying to get back into the swing of writing something other than lab reports, lol. This lowkey went in a 10 Things I Hate About You direction, but I’m okay with that

The excitement of the Triwizard Tournament filled the school along with the preparations for the prestigious Yule Ball. In the beginning, Fred and George weren’t too focused on finding a date, believing that the situation would present itself at a given time. However, as the Beauxbatons and Drumstrang students begun pairing up hours after the ball announcement was made, they began to get a little nervous.

“Get a move on or all the good ones will have gone”

George nervously drummed his fingers against the air of the couch, replaying his twin brother’s words in his head. The Weasley boy stared into the crackling fire of the fireplace, drowning out the sound of chattering students in the Gryffindor Common Room. Fred had managed to flawlessly ask Angelina Johnson to the ball after deciding he would ask her five minutes before entering the Great Hall.

“Oi, George!” Fred called from behind the couch, wondering what the devil was wrong with his usually energetic brother. Fred approached his brother, questioningly cocking his head to the side as his brother stared into the fire, “Blink twice if you hear me, Georgie” He joked, but there was no response.

George didn’t hear Fred calling him, he was too focused on finding a way to ask (Y/N) (L/N) to the Yule Ball. That is if someone else hadn’t asked her after George’s failed second attempt.

Fred grew tired of George’s daydreaming and resorted to subtle physical violence to gain his attention.

“I can try again after Potions or maybe try when she’s in the courtyard—” George’s internal monologue was cut off by Fred’s hand coming in contact with the back of his head, “Bloody hell!” George exclaimed, jumping up from his seat on the couch.

“Finally!” Fred cried out, “I’ve been tryin’ to get your attention for five minutes!” He stated firmly while crossing his arms, “What’s gotten with you?”

George faced is attacker rubbing the back of his head, trying to recall if he had heard his brother calling him.

“Sorry, Fred” George muttered, “This Yule Ball situation is driving me mad!” George admitting, slumping back down in his seat, “I’ve tried to ask (Y/N) twice now but something or someone always gets in the bloody way!” George declared tensely, rubbing his forehead in dismay as the painful memories of his failures played through his head.

His last attempt had occurred two days ago after each house had concluded their scheduled dance lesson. George always traveled to the kitchens, but it had become his favorite part of the day because he would always catch (Y/N) around the Hufflepuff dormitory.

On this particular day, (Y/N) returned from the scheduled dance lesson hoping to catch up on her assignments. She stretched her arms above her head as she walked, relieving the tension from the day’s lesson, her body relaxing after letting her arms fall to her side. (Y/N) was excited about the Christmas celebrations, especially the Yule Ball, but her upcoming exams had become her main priority.

(Y/N) approached the barrels near the Hufflepuff common entrance, but before tapping the combination of barrels, somebody had caught her attention.

“(Y/N)?” George called, burying his nerves as he approached the Hufflepuff girl, “How was Sprout’s lesson?” He asked jokingly, knowing Professor Sprout would be more lenient than Professor McGonagall.

(Y/N) lowered her arm, smiling as she noticed her close friend approaching her, “You know Sprout,” She started, “She began with how much she trusts us, gave us a quick lesson, then dismissed us” (Y/N) explained, sitting atop one of the unused barrels, “All the girls wanted a private lesson from Champion Diggory” She joked, knowing George would get a kick out of it.

“Really?” George laughed, leaning against the wall beside her, “But not you?” He asked, secretly hoping she wasn’t one of the many girls fawning over Cedric Diggory. (Y/N) shook her head in reply, a devious smile spreading across her face as she looked up at Fred, “No,” She started, her grin growing even larger, “He was asking me for a lesson.” She stated confidently before busting out into larger at George’s shocked expression.

“You’re bonkers” George laughed, playfully nudging her while she sat on the barrel, “But if Diggorys asking for lessons, you must be a pretty good teacher,” George questioned, pushing himself off the wall he rested on, “You think you could teach me too?” He asked, raising an eyebrow at his Hufflepuff friend.

(Y/N) tapped her finger against her chin, crossing her legs as George stepped in front of her, “Maybe, but what would be in it for me?” She asked, a sweet smile playing at her lips, but George could see the twinkle of deviousness in her eyes.

George stepped closer to (Y/N), his body almost towering over her as he approached. Mustering up all his courage, he opened his mouth to slyly answer her question, but before the words left his lips the corridor was filled with a loud “bang!”.

The Hufflepuff Quidditch team had been transporting their Quidditch equipment to their common room, but had dropped the case as they descended the stairs. The equipment case burst open, the restraints that held the balls back snapping against the stone flooring. In less than a second, the two bludgers and the Golden Snitch began bouncing off the walls of the dungeons.

Some students screamed as the rogue bludgers traveled down the corridor as others attempted to catch the loose equipment. One of the bludgers bounced off the kitchen door and rushed towards the Hufflepuff entrance. Unfortunately for George, the bludger did not hit the common room door, instead it came in full contact with the left side of George’s face.

The impact knocked George clear off his feet, launching him several meters from where he stood. (Y/N) screamed as the boy in front of her suddenly disappeared, quickly leaping from her barrel and heading to his side.

“Merlin’s beard, George!” (Y/N) exclaimed, kneeling down beside him as he attempted to sit up. George groaned, squeezing his eyes shut attempting to make sense of what had just happened, “Bloody hell…” He uttered, his hand holding his throbbing head.

Needless to say, George didn’t get to ask (Y/N) to attend the ball with him since Quidditch Captain Cedric Diggory instead he take George to Madam Pomfrey himself. Fred attempted to stifle his laughter after listening to his brother’s story, tears welling up in his eyes until he finally lost it.

George huffed angrily, “This isn’t funny, Fred!” George exclaimed, “Madam Pomfrey said I was lucky I didn’t have a concussion and not to mention that I made a complete fool of myself in front of (Y/N)!”

Fred wiped away his tears, grinning at George before pulling him off his seat, “If you want (Y/N) (L/N) to go with you, we’ll have to show out” Fred stated, dragging his brother to the boys’ dormitories.

***

(Y/N) sat on the fountain in the center of the Clock-tower Courtyard, her legs stretched out in front of her as she enjoyed one of the books her mother had packed in her trunk. As a half-blood, (Y/N) enjoyed the conveniences of the wizarding world as well as the simplicity of muggle devices.

One of her favorite devices happened to be the Sony Walkman which she would use to play the cassette tapes her family created for her. George first noticed the Walkman attached to her waist during their lunch period, he watched as she bobbed her head to the music as she devoured the food in front of her.

Since his father was the Head of Muggle Artifacts, George Weasley was accustomed to some muggle items but he was bewildered by the machine that allowed her to transport music wherever she went. Fred and George used her love for music to their advantage in order to prepare George’s Yule Ball proposal for (Y/N).

All of a sudden, Lee Jordan and Angelina Johnson rushed into the Courtyard, their eyes immediately landing on (Y/N) as they entered.

“(Y/N)!” Angelina exclaimed happily, “We’ve been looking all over for you!” She grinned, the two Gryffindors eyeing each other suspiciously. A grin spread across Lee Jordan’s face as he took a seat beside the Hufflepuff girl, “Diggory sent us to get you, said something about a Hufflepuff meeting” He stated, confident (Y/N) would fall for their carefully constructed lie.

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow at the two Gryffindors, it was unusual for Cedric to call everyone spontaneously, but she knew better than to question the current situation. Shutting her book, she threw away her empty lunch container and followed her friends to the Quidditch Pitch.

“Cedric wanted to meet here?” (Y/N) questioned as Lee and Angelina led her towards the field. Angelina flashed her another wide smile, “Yes! He said it was important for everyone to come, don’t worry”

(Y/N) noticed their strange behavior, “It’s just peculiar that he would ask everyone to the Quidditch Pitch at such short notice…” She mumbled, but the two seemed to brush her comment off with stifled laughter. Once at the pitch, Angelina and Lee had quickly excused themselves and ran off from her sight, leaving (Y/N) defeated at the center of the field.

Letting out a sigh, she scratched her head taking a look around the empty pitch, “Cedric?” She bellowed, searching for her other housemates, but it was obvious she was alone. (Y/N) began to feel a bit frustrated, her friends had left her alone in the field and her housemates were nowhere to be seen. Her mind began to wander to the many tasks she could complete if she was currently in her dormitory, but instead, she was awkwardly standing in the middle of an empty pitch.

Suddenly, a stream of red light flew above her exploding into smaller streams as the whiz-bangs detonated in the sky. (Y/N)’s eyes widened as multicolored streams of light covered the sky, detonating at various times until the sky above the pitch was covered with different sized explosions.

(Y/N) then noticed the flying formation of students dropping flower petals unto the pitch. The petals cascaded her and a smile spread across her face as the whiz-bangs created a large “W” on the sky, realizing who was really behind this gathering.

George Weasley emerged from the W in the sky, surfing on his broom as he pressed his wand against his neck, “(Y/N) (L/N)” George started, the Sonorus charm amplifying his voice, “You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you…”

(Y/N)’s hand flew over her mouth, her heart racing as George sang the recognizable words. He had begun singing the words to the song (Y/N) had shown him while they were in their third year together. The fact that he remembered it and was suddenly performing it for her made her blush, her heart racing as his voice resonated through the field.

As the W began to vanish, a hoard of students marched onto the field playing enchanted instruments. (Y/N)’s heart fluttered as she instantly recognized Frankie Valli’s “Can’t Take My Eyes Off You”. As the band picked up the music, George broom-surfed around the Quidditch Pitch, the sound of his singing filling the stadium.

“Oh, pretty baby, and if it’s quite alright, I need you, baby!” George boomed, his broom nearing the bottom of the field, “I need you, baby… to warm the lonely night, I love you, baby!” George had never performed in front of an “audience” before, but he put all his energy in this song because he knew how important it was to (Y/N) and he wanted to impress her, “trust in me when I say…!”

(Y/N) bounced up and down on the field as George circled around her, dancing to the music as he serenaded her. Fred had continued the stream of whiz-bangs as his twin brother sang, adding an extra oomph to the beat of the music.

“Oh, pretty baby! Don’t bring me down, I pray!” George exclaimed while jumping off his broom, landing a few meters in front of (Y/N), “Oh, pretty baby! Now that I’ve found you, stay!” George’s brown eyes locked with (Y/N)’s (E/C) ones as he sauntered over to her on the field, lowering his wand from his throat.

Tears welled up in (Y/N)’s eyes, an overwhelming wave of happiness washing over her as George approached her. His gaze never left hers, making sure to keep his tone steady so she did not miss any line he sang, “and let me love you…” George added, halting in front of her with a smile on his face. His hand reached for hers, his fingers lacing with her own and bringing her hand up to press a kiss against the back of it.

“Let me love you…” George finished, his voice softening as he removed his lips from the back of her hand, “And will you let me have the honor of taking you to the Yule Ball, (Y/N) (L/N)? George added, his other hand grabbing her free one.

Tears of joy streamed down (Y/N)’s face as she fiercely nodded her head in reply, “Yes, of course!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms around George’s taller frame and pulling him into a tight hug. George’s arms wrapped around her waist, holding her tightly against his body as more flower petals flew around them.

Looking up at the man in her arms, (Y/N) had a sudden burst of courage and placed her hands on George’s face, pulling him in for their first kiss. George’s eyes widened as his lips came in contact with her soft and supple ones, his eyes fluttering close as he gave in to their kiss. His hands gripped her waist tightly, returning her surprise kiss with pleasure.

Fred noticed the public display of affection between them and set off one final whiz-bang to conclude their performance. With a smile on his family, Fred released the heart-shaped whiz-bang, a stream of pink and red hurdling towards the sky detonating into a large, colorful heart above the pitch.

“Are you sure you weren’t meant to be in Gryffindor?” George asked, pulling away from their electrifying kiss. His joke earned a smile for the Hufflepuff girl, winking as she pressed her forehead against his.

“I’ll have you know, Weasley,” (Y/N) teased, “that you shouldn’t underestimate Hufflepuffs because we’re fearless” she stated proudly, pressing another kiss against his lips.

George smiled against their kiss, happily lifting her up the ground and spinning her. It seemed as if the third time really was the charm when it came to his Yule Ball date. Now, that he found the perfect date, George could focus on creating wonderful memories with (Y/N) at the ball.

#harry potter imagines #Harry Potter Hogwarts mystery #Harry Potter Hogwarts Mystery imagines #Fred and George #fred weasley #Fred and George Weasley #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley x mc #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you

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fortissimohands-archive · 5 years ago

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ok im gonna turn into a bojack horseman blog real quick because the last few episodes came out and I have Thoughts

this is kinda rambly but whatevs, you gotta get the infodump out

-it’s … a LOT harder for me to empathise with BoJack after the real Sarah Lynn story came out. I sort of assumed that his guilt over it was just because he took her on the bender (and was also a dick when she was a child) but the revelation that he waited 17 minutes to do anything, when he could have saved her, is just ... bad. especially since it was never mentioned before now which makes it seem like a retcon

-also, people are gonna try to argue with the above point by saying he was also drunk/high at the time, but I don’t think he was? I know they were on a bender together but we dont know how drunk/high he was as of the hotel/planetarium scene. im underage and ive never drunk alcohol or taken a drug stronger than ibuprofen so i might be wrong here, but I feel like someone whos sober enough to plan out how to avoid getting in trouble for that (right down to the detail of calling himself on her phone) is sober enough to not wait 17 fucking minutes to get someone medical attention

-Im lowkey upset about the lack of closure with hollyhock? we never even find out for sure if Pete told her that it was BoJack who gave maddy alcohol poisoning, theres a few comments that imply she does but her complaints about him not giving her space are perfectly valid by themselves and she doesn't really seem to be angry until after the interview comes out so who knows

-personally, based on how Pete hesitates at the end of A Quick One, While He’s Away, I feel like he doesn’t tell her, probably because he sees how much they look alike and guesses she might be related to him, BUT shes very suspicious that its him because lets face it that's exactly the sort of thing he would do, which is why she wants to keep her distance in the next episode

-I have mixed feelings on her letter never being shown? on one hand it feels kinda cheap that we never see it even though its arguably the main turning point that pushes him over the edge, but on the other hand I think its best this way because theres nothing she could write that wouldn't feel underwhelming after all the build up. sort of like how I lowkey hoped for a reveal of what Erica looks like, but I also knew that nothing they could animate would really be able to match all the jokes

-also, random weird theory: when he calls hollyhock after reading the letter, it says the line is disconnected. except it sounds like hollyhock saying that? and her voicemail message up until then is “leave a message … if you’re a hundred”, so it’s pretty clear that she doesn't get voicemails often, and its not a stretch to assume bojack is the only person who would call her (her friends and dads would probably text). conclusion: her line isn’t disconnected, she just changed her voicemail to get him to stop trying to call her

-the fact that Judah's band is called “SPECTRUM of enchantment” confirms he is autistic and no I do not take constructive critisicm

-I fucking loved the reprise of Don’t Stop Dancing, which is my fave song from the series by far, but I wish it was longer and reprised all the verses from gina’s version.

-it was kinda weird that butterscotch was secretariat? they managed to pull it off pretty well but still, its weird how its never explained. I guess its because neither of them were developed as much as the other characters so having them both would have meant having two characters with only a few lines, but both were needed for the plot (butterscotch for the revelation that he maybe did care about bojack and Beatrice,secretariat for the poem)

-honestly I LOVED The View From Halfway Down. both the poem and the episode as a whole

-also. my finale predictions were basically this: it wont end with bojacks suicide, because weve spent 6 seasons following this guy and if he dies itll all be for nothing, but theres way too much drowning symbolism for it to not pay off in some way. so my best guess was a failed suicide attempt by drowning. so yay i was right!

-anyone else seeing symbolism with Hollywoob? like yeah, its a nice conclusion to both the Hollywoo gag and the recurring gag of mr peanutbutters shitty sign company, but the original reason the D was stolen was for Diane, back when Diane/Mr PB/BoJack was an actual love triangle. and I feel like the fact that it got replaced represents her choosing neither of them, but the fact that it’s a B instead of a D represents that shes changed a lot since then?

-alternatively: looking at it from mr peanutbutters perspective, the D was for Diane, back when they were married. the years of Hollywoo represented their shitty marriage and divorce (we know diane hates big gestures, so their relationship was doomed starting from when the D was stolen). and the B is for BoJack, since mr PB is one of the only characters who hasn’t at least implied that he wants to keep his distance from bojack

-im so glad we get to actually see how the voicemail affected diane. as well as address the fact that, intentionally or not, hes been making it her job to “save” him and that's not fair to her

-honestly im a big fan of the theory that BJ does die and episode 16 isn't real. I know its less of a theory and more of a fandom retcon because the ending came across as rushed and too open-ended (because honestly it kinda did), but the fact that the first shot is the last shot makes the theory feel really fitting

-my take on that theory is that the last 2 episodes are bojack’s hell? sort of like a Good Place-esque hell where you’re trapped in an infinite cycle of things being awful, but just not bad enough for you to realise you’re in hell. my guess is that first he goes through the hell of the dinner party (which he mentions is a recurring dream), but eventually he gets used to it so he moves on to the showcase, after which he ends up in a never-ending cycle of “waking up”, going to prison, going to the wedding, talking to diane, and starting over

-especially since when diane is persuading him to tell the truth about sarah lynn, one of the points she makes is that if he stops lying, he won’t have to constantly feel like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. so now hes stuck eternally being scared of what will happen once hes out of prison, which will never happen because it resets on the roof. he’s made his bed, now it’s time for him to lie in it. forever.

#bojack horseman #suicide tw #drugs tw #alcohol tw #overdose tw #death tw #drowning tw #ask if you need anything else tagged

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magioftheseas · 5 years ago

Text

Chiaki & Yasuke

Summary: Nanami Chiaki’s FTEs in the SDR2 Protagonist Matsuda Yasuke AU. Yep. They’re almost completely different from canon.

Rating: PG

Warnings: Language and references to gore/hospital stuff because Matsuda.

Notes: I was just super into the mood to write more FTEs and I went for Nanami since her relationship with Matsuda is fun. It’s also one I noticed the most people (about three) voicing interest in. It’s pretty drastically different but I still tried to make them parallel the original somewhat. Do the two of them actually get closer? Well, I won’t give you the answer so easily. Anyway Nanami talks like a House of Dead 2 character. She does.

Read this fic among others HERE

Main story is HERE

Commission? Donate?

Up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, A, B, start.

Matsuda woke to the sound of furious button presses. The hotel air was as stale as ever. His neck fucking hurt from how he had slouched against the couch. At the very least, his manga had been carefully set down on the table, but he nevertheless found himself irritated at how he just fell asleep while reading.

Just because I got tired of my cottage. The hell was I thinking?

And that creepy otaku was happily booping away on the tabletop game. Although Matsuda was pretty damn sure the lobby had been empty when he entered. He’s sure because when he goes out, he goes out of his way to avoid people if he can help it.

And yet, the gamer chick is here. When he’s sure she has a million other things to do. How irritating.

Huffing, Matsuda pushed himself up. His neck throbbed and creaked and he groaned loudly as he tried to adjust it. He might need a neck pillow or something. Anything.

“Ugh. How annoying,” he mutters, grabbing his book. “I wasted all that time on a shitty nap. I doubt my brain flushed out the chemicals properly. No, I’m sure it didn’t. Great.”

Stretching doesn’t alleviate the aching of his joints, but he’s ready to head out regardless. He pops his lips as he starts with his best foot forward, only for someone to call out.

“Hey, why don’t you play a game with me before you go?”

Matsuda paused, turning to Nanami with a withered, unimpressed look.

“Just one,” she said, not looking at him but at the stupid fucking screen. “Or two. Or three. Or four. Maybe more.”

The fuck? Oh. The hell kind of bizarro world is this?

He thinks that, he thinks that, but he throws his hands up in preemptive defeat.

“Sure. Fine. Why the hell not.”

And that was the start of it. As well as the select, the downs, the ups, and the game.

The losing screen flashes in his face. He’s not surprised at it. He wasn’t surprised the first time.

“Another round,” Nanami droned at him. “You didn’t even try in that last one, Matsuda-kun.”

“What do you mean? My strategy of just pressing random buttons hasn’t changed a bit,” he pointed out. “I don’t have the time or brain space to learn the technicalities of this cheap-ass fighter game. Especially when the characters are all so ugly.”

“You consistently pick the same one,” she replied. “If it didn’t matter at all, you’d change things up a little.”

Matsuda stares darkly at the character in question as if it had betrayed him. What met his glare was an annoying innocent smile obscured by strings of red.

“I guess this fugly speaks to me on some level. Not that I’m remotely interested in what it has to say.” He selects them just as before. “Whatever. If you’re that fucking bored, then I guess I’ll pick the stage. Although does it really matter? They’re just different backdrops.”

“It helps with atmosphere, I think.”

You think. Games are supposed to be your fucking forte.

He ended up selecting the gothic horror-styled one. Not for any particular reason beyond it feeling right at the time. He immediately started his losing strategy of random button mashing, and while he got a few hits in due to unpredictability, Nanami Chiaki was perfectly capable of wiping the floor with him. To call it one-sided would be generous.

Another defeat. Another loss. Another smug winning animation of Nanami’s character, cheering and prancing around like a fucking deer.

He pressed start to skip through, but the screen lingered as the other player hadn’t done the same. So he waited because whatever, almost drifted off, and snapped back to attention when Nanami was the one who yawned.

“Am I boring you?” he asked, huffing. “What did you expect? Obviously, I’m not a match against you. This is your field, not mine. Or was this part of a sad attempt at psychoanalysis?”

“Um...” Nanami rubbed at her eye. “I do love games. I love playing games. And playing games with others is fun. It’s fun even with it’s with you.”

Even when it’s you. He wonders if he should be flattered. Ultimately, he doesn’t really care. He shrugs.

“Games are as good as a recreational activity as any, I suppose,” he mumbled. “But still between games and manga, the manga is the obvious victor for me. I’d rather not have to use my head unnecessarily when it comes to entertainment.”

“Unnecessarily?” Nanami parrots.

“Because gaming requires an engagement unlike any other,” Matsuda explained, perhaps a bit snappier than needed. “It’s interactive. The game cannot proceed without a player. It’s more...versatile, I suppose? That’s the main appeal of it, and I definitely see the value there, but, still.” He shook his head. “Not for me.”

“So that’s why you’re not really engaging,” Nanami muttered, puffing her cheeks. “Not really, I think.”

“If I asked you to go reading with me, you’d definitely fall asleep before finishing a chapter.” He paused for a moment, mulling that over. “But I guess maybe you’d put more of a show at participating.”

“Maybe. Books are okay. I guess.”

Matsuda twitched a little.

“Video games are okay. I guess.”

“But video games encapsulate all kinds of experiences,” Nanami said. “So I think you’re being a bit close-minded. There’s surely a game out there that speaks clearly to Matsuda-kun’s interests. Maybe we should give that a try.”

Matsuda perked. Nanami had clicked start so that the screen could change, but her gaze was more intense than before. Matsuda couldn’t help but let out a snort.

“I don’t doubt that, but I’m still not exactly interested in playing through it.” He waved his hand. “I’d rather watch someone else play.”

“I guess I can play it, then?” Nanami’s head tilted. “I guess we’ll both have fun that way. I think so, anyway. So, let’s go find that game. Um. There are simulations of surgeries.” Matsuda remembered those. He remembered those well.

I’ve actually played through those for training. It’s meant to ease you into the idea of cutting open a real person, but it doesn’t fully capture that. Doesn’t capture the feel of pulsing at your fingertips, the weight of that person’s mind and life on your shoulders. How a person can twitch and break if poked the wrong way.

And with all that in mind, he was really, incredibly, exhausted.

“Not right now. I’m going back to take an actual fucking nap.” He stands, and he does a half-assed salute. “Sayonara, bye-bye.”

“Later, then?” Nanami asked. She didn’t even sound hopeful. It was cold and robotic, like a coworker after a long, long day. It lowkey pissed him off, so he didn’t even respond.

“Ohhhh, it’s Matsuda-kuuuuun.”

“It’s meeeee.” Matsuda waved his hand dully. “I didn’t have anything better to do so here I aaaaaam.”

“Yaaaaay,” Nanami droned with no mirth whatsoever. “So, let’s go to my cottage, then. I dug around through my games and I found stuff that aligns with Matsuda-kun’s interests, I think. I also asked Usamonomi for other stuff.”

“You can just ask the rabbit for shit like that?” he asked, blinking. “Well, shit. I should’ve been taking advantage of that a long time ago. I could’ve cut down on time spent within the proximity of other people.”

Nanami blinks back at him. She already looks bored. And tired. What a mood.

“Were you serious about finding a game I’d like?”

“Absolutely,” she answered immediately with quite the serious expression. “Games are everything. If you can’t find a game you enjoy, what are you even doing with your life?”

“Other things.”

“Come on,” Nanami insisted. “I will drag you if I have to. Probably.”

I don’t want to go but having someone remark on the weird gaming otaku trying to shove me around isn’t exactly my idea of a better time. The best time would be reading manga. And not going crazy due to a lack of being able to work. God.

“Okay. Sure.”

He could only shrug his shoulders and move on along. And make faces at Nanami’s back all the while.

They got to her cottage easily, and Nanami was even walking a bit faster than usual to make the trip shorter. She had to dig around for her key, but it was only a minute before she unlocked the door and beckoned him within her gaming domain. Matsuda, unaffected as ever, just muttered platitudes as he followed in after her.

“Please excuse me.”

He scowled as he had to step over several cables and nearly flipped over the rug that happened to be the same shape as the hair clip Nanami wore. How obsessive was this chick? Even he didn’t have a specially designed rug. And the shape was impractical, too, it pissed him off.

God, what would life be without such useless luxuries, indeed.

“Ba, ba, baaa,” Nanami droned in a poor non-attempt to drill up anticipation. Before Matsuda could ask, she had shoved one of the handheld consoles into his face. It was pearly pink and well-worn, and also flicked on with the screen blinding. Squinting, Matsuda first heard the steady, synthesized heartbeat before he saw something pulsing in the depths of painfully light cyan blue. On closer inspection it was a heart, tubes and all. How quaint.

His eyes flickered over the title printed on the screen, and he exhaled.

“Yeah. That’s a video game alright.”

“You can play it,” Nanami said. “Or you can watch me play it. I guess.”

“I’ll watch you.”

“Okay.”

Nanami plopped onto the ground. She patted the spot beside her but Matsuda elected to just keep standing. He had no interest in getting overly cozy, that just...made him feel uncomfortable.

This chick in general makes me feel uncomfortable.

And she had already started the game. She was utterly fixated on the screen immediately, even when all she was doing was scrolling through dialogue and watching inane cutscenes. The music droned on, and Matsuda wondered if Nanami would notice him just leaving.

Tempting idea. But if I’m going to waste my time here, I better fucking commit.

He noticed that she used a stylus to navigate the various screens. It was definitely old, but in good shape. Hadn’t even been gnawed on the way most of Matsuda’s pens had been. If anything, Nanami had no idling or ticks as she played. It was as if every atom of her being couldn’t focus on anything else.

Creepy.

Really creepy. Totally inhuman. She’s not even blinking.

“Your eyesight’s going to go out,” he muttered under his breath. But she had started the stage, and Matsuda could only stare at the digitized rendition of a patient on the surgical table. Nanami drew the lines with her stylus, and the ‘skin’ split open, revealing the pulsing masses underneath.

There was music ticking, blaring and frantic. It annoyed him. If any music played during surgery, it was almost always classical. Fucking classical. It’s like he was back watching during his internship. He had been fascinated back then, watching how the body pulsed with life in spite of being cut open. The thrill of a person’s warmth when their inner intricacies were in his hands. The throbbing and spasming of those insides...and Matsuda only snapped out of it when the stage was cleared and triumphant music played.

And Nanami was looking up at him, bright-eyed and expectant. She offered him the game.

He shook his head. He felt twitchy all over. Anxious. Here he was, wasting his fucking time on this. There weren’t even any lives on the line. No excitement at all. He wouldn’t even learn anything. A simulation had nothing on the hands-on experience he used to be so familiar with.

And if I’m here for so long that I forget how to rewire a person...what will I do?

“It’s nothing like the real thing. It doesn’t even make the slightest difference.”

“Matsuda-kun?”

He leaves without another word.

He looks through the files in his cottage of weird animal-dressed people, and even mulling over them and trying to act like he’s working isn’t the most satisfying of activities. So, he heads out, reading his manga as he does, and sometimes irritably shielding himself from the sun. It’s painfully bright regardless of what he does, so he ends up in the hotel lobby once again.

And Nanami Chiaki is sleeping on his favorite spot, her handheld placed gently aside. She doesn’t sleep with any grace and is muttering about flying pigs and evil octopi. Matsuda shuts his manga irritably and he nudges her arm dangling over the side with the tip of his slipper. Nanami mutters something incoherent in between weird humming that may or may not have resembled classical music, and Matsuda smacks her head none-too-lightly with his book.

“Oi. If you’re going to sleep, do so in your fucking cottage not out here in the open. Do you have any self-preservation at all?” He smacks her again. “This is also bad for your back. And you already slouch so much. Geez.”

“Mm. The one who orders us. Cannot be negotiated with. Do not call.”

“What weird game are you playing in your head now?”

Nanami’s face scrunched up briefly. And quickly. Almost too quick to observe. Her eyes drifted open lethargically, wide and blank. Slowly, she pushed herself up, and there was only recognition in her dull gaze as she blinked at him.

“Matsuda-kun.”

What the hell was that about? Ah.

“Morning,” he greeted, not that curious. “Do you ever go anywhere else? Shut-in.”

“Mm,” Nanami mumbled, rubbing her eye with a yawn. “I feel most comfortable with games, but I suppose I should go to other places, too. Do you have any ideas, Matsuda-kun?”

“I don’t care. Anywhere should work.”

Her cheeks puffed, clearly displeased with the answer but Matsuda didn’t care enough to take it back.

“Is it that you’re getting bored of games or that you feel like there should be more to life? It’s none of my concern either way, but if you’re going to bother me about such nonsense, the least you can do is be clear about your motivations.”

Nanami stared at him, and after a while, her head tilted.

“It’s because you’re so difficult.”

Matsuda raised an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“Out of everyone here, Matsuda-kun is the most difficult,” she said simply, tugging up her hood. “At least, I think so.”

“That’s...a pretty fucking lofty claim, considering.” He said that, but in all honesty, he’s not that shocked. People have been calling him difficult all his life even amongst others with objectively worse traits. He’s used to this kind of bullshit.

It’s still annoying as fuck, though.

“That’s also not much of an explanation,” he pointed out. “Why the hell am I a factor in how you spend your free time? You don’t have to pay me mind.”

Nanami’s expression didn’t change, but he wondered if he imagined a shadow flickering across her gaze for the slightest moment.

“I spend a lot of time playing games, and I love games.” A pause. “Of course, games are about having fun. But there are other good things you can get out of it, too. Like, a greater understanding of yourself and the world around you.”

“That’s what it means to be art,” Matsuda replied dully. “So, what? What does this have to do with me specifically?”

“There’s a particular genre I have trouble with, I guess,” Nanami said, although she seemed kind of lost in thought about it. “It’s a genre that hinges on understanding others. Other, um, living people I think.”

Living people? The hell is up with that signifier? Is she actually a zombie?

He couldn’t ponder that further because Nanami was now pointing at him.

“And you, Matsuda-kun, are the most difficult person. So, I think I want to understand through you.”

“What a normal thing to say. And do.” Matsuda twitched. “It’s not my fucking responsibility if you have a social disorder.”

Although I wonder if that’s what it is. But it doesn’t matter. This doesn’t involve me.

“When I invited you to play games, I thought playing something that pertained to your interests would get you to open up,” Nanami explained next. “But you didn’t. You just got upset. Why?”

Ah. Okay. That’s a curiosity I can entertain.

“It’s because you assumed that my field is meant to entertainment.” He didn’t look at her, but he wasn’t going to run away. “I got into medicine and neurology out of necessity and purpose, not because I thought it’d be fun. Yes, it can be enjoyable but that’s such a selfish and stupid fucking way to look at it. Even the fucking narcissists don’t care about that.”

It’s about control. The control needed to save a person’s life.

“Narcissists?” Nanami parroted.

“Never mind. What I should be saying is that if you wanted to pick a game I’d enjoy; you should have picked something with magical girls.”

She perked up. “Oh, so Monomi.”

“Something a little more dignified would be preferred, but yeah. I guess. I can’t say I’m that rabbit’s biggest fan.”

If not for her shitty timing and shittier competence level, I’d at least tolerate her, I suppose.

“Um. So.” Humming, Nanami bounced on her heels, likely to keep herself awake. “What’s something that Matsuda-kun enjoys that I can take part in?” She looks at her book. “I can read with you, I guess? That’s sort of like co-op.”

“It’s nothing like co-op,” he snapped. “And I’d rather not have your creepy dead fish eyes staring holes over my shoulder.”

“I’m not a fish. I think. Fish can sleep underwater. And I’d drown if I tried that. Probably. But maybe I could survive if I collected enough bubbles.”

Matsuda stared at her for a long, long time.

“How about I look for a second copy of this book and you can read along or something?”

“Oh, I guess that’s also an option, huh.”

And such was what they went with. And so, Matsuda’s frustration and confusion with the one called Nanami Chiaki increased. But off to the library, all the same.

“Matsuda-kun, Matsuda-kun.”

Nanami was the one who waved him over, although she hardly looked happy to be doing so. Neutrality as always. It seriously weirded him out.

“Let’s go somewhere again,” she said. “Where would you like to be?”

“A...hospital. With patients. Where I’d be working. Obviously.”

Nanami frowned at him, perhaps a little put out. He couldn’t really tell. Maybe she was actually judging him or something. Considering how much time this chick spent on luxury activities, he wondered if she had any concept of work.

Then again, she doesn’t understand much. Isn’t she pestering me in the first place because of a game?

“That game you’re using me to get good at...it’s not unsavory, is it?”

“Unsavory?” Nanami parroted, like she wasn’t sure what the word meant. He shuddered a bit at the implication of such a scenario. “I do want to understand other people. That’s important, right?”

“I guess. But normally a person’s intention would be social climbing.”

“Like gaining social links?” Nanami seemed to think that over. “Well, there are benefits to that. New abilities. Matsuda-kun would grant greater precision. The ability to better aim. Sharp Precision. That’s what it’d be called.”

She’s now talking through me rather than at me. Fucking rude.

“Right. Precision granted, then. Good-bye.”

He turns on his heel and walks away. It’s not all that dramatic, because Nanami just trots after him without missing a beat. One might compare it to being followed by something cute, like a puppy, a kitten, or a duckling. Matsuda felt it more akin to the security cameras.

“That’s not how it works,” Nanami finally spoke after they walked a good distance across the island. “I feel like concluding here would be a bad ending, I’m sure of it.”

Bad ending? So like...a dating sim route?

Gross.

“Alright. So, a question.” He distracted himself with one of the monitors. And one of the cameras. What he’d give for a rock to break both of them. “You’re pretty good at games, right?”

“Mm?”

“Like, it’s your talent. You must be really fucking absurdly good at games.” He still didn’t look at her. “How much do you think I’d have to mess with your head to make you bad at them?” A pause. “One practice during open brain surgery is having the patient playing a game while you poke around. If they go from doing really well to really poorly, you have an idea that you’re doing something wrong. So how about it?” He glanced back. “Wanna test that?”

Nanami didn’t look disturbed. She didn’t even look displeased. She did, however, visibly size him up and shook her head.

“Even if I was bad at games, I’m sure I’d still enjoy them. It’s not about winning or losing, after all.”

That’s...absolutely not what you should be concerned about. Creepy. So fucking creepy. She has the sense to not go for it, but seriously?

If I lost my capabilities for even a moment, I don’t know what I’d fucking do with myself. If I couldn’t focus on something that important, what would I even be living for?

“Oh.” Nanami sighed. “Matsuda-kun looks upset again. At this rate, I’ll never get a good ending.”

Gross. Gross, gross, gross.

“Life doesn’t have any endings,” he bit out. “There’s also no milestones, not really. No plot points. Certainly no impeccable strategy. Don’t you get that?”

She blinked at him. Once. Twice.

“Mm.” She shrugs. “Matsuda-kun, I have a magical girl game we can play together. It’s a fighter. The combos are really simple. I think you’d enjoy it.”

“It’s always about games with you, isn’t it?” He rolled his eyes. “Look. The second we get off this island, I’m going to throw my everything back into work. There’s no point in building a relationship that’s just going to fall apart. Especially when the person you’re looking to build it with is as difficult as I am.”

Nanami blinked at him again. This time, she was quiet.

“I’m going back,” he said, rubbing at his nape. “Thanks for joining me on the walk, but no thanks to your weird, detached advances.”

“It’s because I want to understand you, Matsuda-kun,” she replied simply. “Because it’s difficult for me, too. I think.”

Is it? Is it really?

No matter how he looked at it, it was a fucking weird sentiment to express. It wasn’t normal. Not at all. Nanami Chiaki wasn’t remotely normal.

I actually...do kind of want to split her head open and get a look for what’s inside.

But he can’t really do that, so for now he just brushes her off.

“I’d rather just not be bothered.”

“Hmmm. Well,” Nanami hummed, shrugging as well. “Maybe you’re tired? I’ll talk to you later, Matsuda-kun.”

This time, she’s the one to walk away. Like it’s that simple.

How exhausting.

He’s lying on bed, manga draped over his face and hands laced behind his head. He’s decently close to being asleep, but there’s a knock on his door. Pulling the manga off and setting aside, he groaned loudly.

“Leave a message.”

And then, he heard someone stuffing just that under his door. Pushing himself up, Matsuda stared at the folded-up paper now on his floor. Sighing, he went and retrieved it. The handwriting was surprisingly neat.

Matsuda-kun,

Hang out with me?

He had half a mind to crumble it up, but instead he just opened the door. Sure enough, she was still there.

“I hear letters can be a good starting block,” Nanami said simply. Like it was just common knowledge. “So they really are effective, huh.”

“Did you just have this on you?” Matsuda shook his head. “Don’t actually answer that. I don’t want to know. What I will ask is why you’re bothering me. Again.”

“I’ve hung out with other people,” she responded, head tilted. “And I think I learned a bit about human interaction. But, Matsuda-kun is still the most difficult. I think.”

“Mmgh.” She really is an odd one, isn’t she? That said. “You really think we can get along, huh? I don’t remotely understand how but to be honest, I don’t understand how you think at all. Sure I can’t cut open your head?” He snorted. “Kidding.”

Nanami’s expression still didn’t change. He still couldn’t get a read on her.

“Walk with me, Matsuda-kun?”

“Alright. Sure. Whatever.”

There wasn’t any point either way, so he figured he might as well. It wasn’t often someone sought him out willingly, right?

...right?

His head hurt a little.

“We can stop by the supermarket, I think,” Nanami says after he shuts the door behind him. “If your head hurts.”

He waved his hand to brush off the remark and followed her lead.

“When talking to many people, I guess I learned a lot of things,” she rambled on ever dully. “I know quite a bit from games, but that can only teach me so much about the world, I think.”

Matsuda said nothing to that, rubbing his temples.

“There was something in particular that frustrated and confused me,” she added. “Something that I wanted to understand.”

“Dating sims?” Matsuda asked wryly, unimpressed.

She didn’t respond, either to confirm or to elaborate. Matsuda huffed, but he expected as much.

“Y’know most games that simulate interaction miss out on a lot of nuances to actual conversations. Just like most thing,” he found himself saying. “No matter how intricate the control screen, there’s an ocean of difference between playing a game about a subject versus engaging with it in the real world. That’s another reason why your doctor games don’t do much for me.”

“I suppose that makes sense, huh.” Strangely, Nanami almost sounded wistful. “But, it’s still something I’d like to understand better. Interacting with others, building relationships, falling in love, things like that.”

They’re at the beach now. Nanami pauses to stare out towards the ocean. Matsuda wondered what he saw beyond the sunlight broken and scattered across the surface. The seagulls flying overhead, and the rolling waves.

“I don’t understand love, but... I don’t think you do, either, Matsuda-kun.”

Matsuda’s eyes narrowed sharply and he would’ve snapped back except suddenly his head hurt and he nearly choked. He gagged, too, feeling sick and light-headed.

“U-Urgh. Urgh.”

“Matsuda-kun.” A gentle hand on his head. “Forget I said anything.”

He flinched, but, his mind went blank for a moment and he swallowed back both saliva and bile. Noticing how close Nanami was standing to him, and how her stare was the most unsettling it has ever been, he scowled.

“What was that? I felt like you said shit that was seriously fucking rude before.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Liar.”

Nanami shrugs and from there it’s whatever. Just whatever.

“Hey, Matsuda-kun.” She tugs at her hood. “If you do ever leave, do you think you’ll be bothered to remember everyone?”

“You’re a difficult bunch to forget,” Matsuda snapped. “But as for you, I really can’t be clearer about my lack of interest. By the way, getting to know someone because you want to score fictional lovers on a game is kinda shit.”

“That was actually an excuse, but I figured it wouldn’t work on you.” She shrugged again. “But we spent enough time together that there must be something between us.”

“What a gross remark.”

“So difficult,” Nanami muttered. However, something tugged at her lips. “But I would like for you to get along with everyone, I think. Despite everything. I’m sure.”

“You really do sound like that obnoxious rabbit sometimes,” he responded, puffing his cheeks. She did the same.

“Because getting along with others is important, Matsuda-kun. You should know that.”

Of course I do. But the idea is such a hassle. Such a headache. I have to wonder if it’s worth the trouble.

But, he won’t deny that the idea of a future alone and isolated was a chilling one. He was still human, after all. Humans are social creatures by nature. It was how their species survived, as stupid as it was.

Even if I can’t begin to understand someone like the gamer zombie, it won’t be that way for most other people. And for all her faults, I suppose she’s capable like any other person. I suppose there are a couple of things about her that I can get, even if it’s not everything. But before all of that, one thing is certain.

As both he and Nanami stared out across the endless blue of the ocean waves, he could only truly seek after what laid beyond.

I have to get out of here.

#yasuke matsuda #matsuda yasuke #chiaki nanami #nanami chiaki #Protag Matsun #Magi fics #sdr2 #dr0 #sdr2 spoilers #hinted at #This ended up a lot longer than Hiyoko's but I enjoyed writing it #should I tag the pairing even though it's not really a thing #I didn't for the last one #well #whatever #MatsuNami #I want to do another one before we get back to updating the main story #i-it's not to give myself more time to finish Chapter 2 #I swear

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giapism · 5 years ago

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January Reading Updates

Since we’ve just reached the end of the first month of 2020, I thought I’d take some time to share with you all what I’ve been reading and also write a short review about each book (else I’ll completely forget what I read by the end of the year...) The books are listed in the order that I completed them in.

(*): Read in Vietnamese

1. American Gods - Neil Gaiman

Neil is perhaps my favorite storyteller ever, and he particularly excels in building strange yet captivating worlds that do a great job of making humans seem more human than ever, despite the fact nothing remotely conforming to the human-norm happens (except marriage problems--I suppose even gods and demi-gods are dumb motherfuckers when it comes to love.)

American Gods follows Shadow, a widower freshly released from jail as he tags alongside a suspiciously rich “Mr. Wednesday” (later revealed to be an undercover God), on a quest to convince the old, forgotten Gods of America to rise up and fight the new Gods (Technology, Media etc.) The book pulls up many characters from Irish, Norse, Hindu, Slavic, African and Egyptian folklore and so on, and offers a very refreshing take on religion in modern society. Although Gaiman didn’t dive deep into any specific culture, it’s a helpful start to continue learning about religion and folklore all over the world. There is a lot of information and I can only imagine how painstaking the research process must have been.

Genre-wise, I don’t think this book fits into any at all. There’s history, fantasy, horror, maybe some thriller too. The idea of a giant war with hundreds of Gods is very ambitious, so the book does get a little messy and all-over-the-place at times. I’d call it “jigsaw-puzzling”, though, you’re given lots of information that doesn’t seem to make sense, but gradually everything comes together at the end and I absolutely love getting to the end and exclaiming “OH! So THAT’S what it was about” I find that the suspense-building in this book very well-done, too. The only criticism I have is that the ending felt a bit... lacking. You had all this build up, this gigantic feud, but everything’s resolved so simply you almost feel cheated. Or maybe I just have something against how Armageddon-type stories (where 2 sides fight to death) keep ending. Other than that, considering how hard this topic is to write about, I’m flabbergasted at how well Neil pulled it off.

Overall rating: 8/10

2. The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck - Mark Manson

Everyone was raving about it so I had to give it a go. For those of you who don’t know, this is a self-help book aiming to show you how to re-purpose your life, communicate effectively and live productively. Surprisingly, it only took me 2 afternoons to finish (I always find self-help books are easier to read than fiction, don’t know why). It’s written very informally and feels more like a humorous conversation with a loving but foul-mouthed friend, which makes it easy to digest whether you’re a 10th grader being peer-pressured to apply to US Colleges or a 53-year old electrician just realising you actually wanted to be a novelist. The only requirement for the the advice to be useful is that you kind of need to mess up a lot.

However, I found that there weren’t that many new things in the book. Mostly, it just reminded us of the things we already knew but consciously (or subconsciously) decide to shove under the carpet, OR put into words things we kind of already think, but don’t know how to explain. There is, no doubt, lots of helpful advice but like all self-help books, I find it too much to remember (unless you’re going to re-read it 20 times), and when I finished, out of the dozens of pieces of advice I only remembered one, “People who make changes aren’t flashy and don’t about what they’re going to do a lot. They just do it.” And from then on I shut up about my plans and just worked on them. Everyone’s going to have their own takeaways relevant to their lives, and I’d encourage you to read it just to see if you can find anything interesting. If out of 20 things, you remember 2-3 things that work for you, that’s still a win.

What I enjoyed the most was actually reading the stories/examples of real people at the beginning of each chapter before getting into the “lecture” part.

Overall rating: 6.9/10

3. Dracula - Bram Stoker

A classic in gothic horror. I actually started reading this last year and the first third of the book telling Jonathan’s fearful stays at Count Dracula’s castle had me hooked - it’s written in beautiful, elegant language which we hardly ever hear anymore, and does such a wonderful job conveying the characters’ fears, thoughts and emotions. But the moment Jonathan leaves the castle and the book switches to other characters’ stories, it just got so long and boring that I stopped reading for 3 months altogether and forgot which character was which because there were so many men. The “dull chapters” stretch on for at least a quarter of the book, and things only get interesting again when Dracula returns to the story and certain characters start turning into vampires. The rest of the story follows the “heroes” as they try to defeat the Count and bring peace to his victims, and although many parts are suspenseful and very clever, the ending is also so easily achieved that it’s a bit of a downer.

The whole book is written in diary entrees, journal entrees and letters of different characters (I’ve only read single-person diaries before) which was surprisingly pleasant in that you feel like you know the characters and by the end, you grow quite fond of them. It even inspired me to start keeping a diary again. It also made me start speaking like an old Englishman for the few days after completion, because I hadn’t really shaken off the language yet. Everyone seemed to be much more caring towards each other in those days, and through the letters I picked up some romantic phrases of which my favorite has been “And so, as you love me, and he loves me, and I love you with all the moods and tenses of the verb, I send you simply his ‘love’ instead.” Lovely, isn’t it?

Overall rating: 7/10

4. Days at Morisaki Bookstore / Những Giấc Mơ Ở Hiệu Sách Morisaki - Satoshi Yagisawa*

I’m not sure of the popularity of this book, it seems quite lowkey but has a surprising amount of reviews on Good Reads and even has a film adaptation. I happened to find it on my bookshelf and finished it in one afternoon (it was only 150-ish pages.)

Genre-wise, I’d call it Slice of Life although I don’t know if books are even allowed to be called that, or just anime. There is generally no real plot, only character development as Takako (main character) gets dumped by her cheating boyfriend and moves into her uncle’s antique bookstore to re-charge, gradually finding herself learning to appreciate books and the people around her. It’s a very simple storyline, and there’s almost nothing very special about the main character, but maybe that’s what makes it a relaxing read - because in reality, most humans aren’t the special snowflakes and oddballs we think. Admittedly, I started off finding Takako very annoying, but as she grew through the story, I found myself empathizing with her. For me, the book is a reminder to take things slower in life, remember to recharge and learn to see the beauty in simple things around you. It had a happy ending, too. Good for lazy reads, you don’t really have to think much - just sit there with a nice cup of tea and go with the flow.

Overall rating: 7/10

5. The Oldest Parents With The Youngest Child / Những Tháng Năm Rực Rỡ - Ae-ran Kim*

I. Loved. This. Even now it’s left me with a tumble of emotions that I don’t even know how to describe, and I can say for sure that it’s made it to my list of favorite books of all time.

The story recounts the life of a 17-year-old boy with progeria (a disease that makes his body age 4x as fast as a regular person, meaning he has the body of an 80-year-old) and his parents, who had him when they were 17. It talks of the struggles of teen parents learning to cope with an unintended pregnancy, their financial and mental hardships raising a child whilst also battling his illness, and also of the main character’s steel-hard resilience and love for life despite his condition. It actually made me feel ashamed of myself for being perfectly healthy, but not being as curious and hungry to learn, and most of all, to have a perfectly functioning laptop and not be writing. Other than that, it also humanizes persons with disabilities, showing that they too can fall in love, get anxious when ghosted and want to sneakily drink alcohol despite being underaged - anything a typical 17 year old might do. After this book, for the first time in a long time I felt that every aspect of life was truly wonderful and that I was lucky to be here. I also made a list of 30 challenges to do these coming months, to understand and enjoy life more and will keep you updated on my progress.

Even though the book is written from the perspective of a boy with progeria, the author herself is a perfectly healthy woman in her 40s (who did a lot of research before writing, I’m sure). Yet somehow she’s able to tell the story so vividly, convincingly and emotionally that I feel like I’m in his body, living his life and feeling his disappointment and excitement. The tone is so natural, so nonchalant it just feels like a leaf smoothly riding the breeze down the the ground. Reading this book, I’m reminded again of how powerful a tool literature is in sharing ideas, bridging humans and building empathy. I’m in awe of not just the main character for pushing through his difficulties the way he did, but also of the author for writing something so powerful it changed the way I looked at life. It makes me want to write stories like this one day, too. I just don’t know what to say about this book other than I really loved it.

Overall rating: 9/10

And that’s it for this month! I’ve only just gotten back on track with reading and remembering how fun it is. Hopefully someone will find this helpful and maybe pick up one of these books. I’ll see you guys next month!

#book review #american gods #the subtle art of not giving a f*ck #dracula #my brilliant life #kim aeran #days at morisaki bookstore #reading list #eng #books

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kumkaniudaku · 6 years ago

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Happy Birthday to You (1)

A/N: Been working on this all week and lowkey ignoring my studying lol. Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy!

Word Count: 2,288

Warnings: Language. Mentions of sex.

Soft sounds of rain outside of the window in your bedroom tormented you with its soft tap tap as you returned to bed. In twelve hours, you were expected to pull off an epic birthday extravaganza for your husband, but the unexpected storm washing away the sins of Los Angeles was beginning to put a literal and figurative damper on your plans. Sending a quick prayer to the Creator and checking the weather report for the fourth time that morning, you slowly slid into the spot beside Chadwick hoping that you wouldn’t wake him. The cool cotton sheets could barely hit your smooth legs before Chadwick pulled you into his arms to bury his face in your chest.

“Well, good morning to you too, Pookie,” you greeted as you brushed your fingertips across his disheveled coils. Forgoing a response in the form of a sentence, he grunted his good morning before placing kisses in the valley of your breasts. The scruff of his beard and his uncanny resemblance to his son’s morning actions made you giggle like a girl in the presence of her crush.

“So, that’s how it is? I guess I’ll just hold on to your first birthday gift since I can’t get you to talk to me.”

“If it’s not a birthday shower, I think I can wait until we go to whatever you think you’re gonna surprise me with tonight.”

Your face screwed into an unreadable expression, “So, you know about the party?”

“Now I do.”

Your mouth fell open to contrast the cheeky grin on his face as you realized he’d played a mind game with you to reveal the secret. Chadwick, though a keeper of secrets himself, hated to feel out of the loop. He’d exhausted all of his options since Micah let it slip that he was getting a surprise. Finally, he’d caught you off guard and gotten you to spill the beans.

“I can’t stand you,” you laughed. “C’mon and take this shower, boy.”

“No, no, no,” Chadwick explained as he positioned himself between your legs. “I wanna take my time and undress you right here. I like the way the light is hitting your skin and I wanna use that thing you got me.”

Reaching over to the nightstand on his side, he retrieved a small video camera and turned on the device to begin recording. His hand roamed every inch of your body as he hovered over you and kept the recording going, asking you suggestive questions about the day ahead.

“What you gettin’ me besides a party, baby?”

“Hmm,” you pretended to think while he pushed the hem of your tank top up to expose your erect nipples to the camera. “I was hoping these would suffice.”

“You cute and all, but Daddy wants a gift to go with these titties.”

“Aaron!”

“What? What else you want me to call them?”

Placing your hand over his, you pressed his fingers into the round flesh of your chest with a sultry smile. “I want you to do less talking and more licking.”

Chadwick didn’t utter another word before quickly turning the camera off and hastily resting it on the bedside table. He took another moment to switch your position, simultaneously pulling your body on top of his as he settled onto his back. His less than subtle hint to take control didn’t go unnoticed as your lips found a home on his neck and jawline. Chadwick’s large hands gripped and massaged your ass while he rocked your hips in his lap.

The moment he’d had enough of the teasing and made a move to carry you into the bathroom, three loud knocks on the other side of the door reminded him that there were two other Boseman family members in the home.

“Daddy!”

“I’m asleep, Micah. Go back to bed.” Chadwick winced in reaction to your firm pinch to the underside of his arm but refused to change his answer. The throbbing below his waist needed attention and he wasn’t willing to ruin the moment.

“You’re not sleeping, Daddy,” Micah countered between giggles. “You’re playing with Mommy!”

It felt like your head would explode from the pressure of stifling laughter at Chadwick’s shocked expression. He looked between you and the door one last time before pulling a t-shirt over his head and shuffling through the room to open the double wooden doors. Instead of being greeted by one child, he was met with two sets of eyes that looked like his shining with excitement.

“Dadadadada!”

“Micah, how did Noah get out of his bed?”

The six-year-old looked past her father to look to you for permission, finding you holding your index finger over your mouth to keep her quiet.

“Uuummmmm, I dunno! Happy Birthday, Daddy!”

“Mi-” Further questioning was halted by her lanky body wrapping around his legs and Noah releasing a string of babbles that were probably an echo of his sisters well wishes.

Micah gave Chadwick one last squeeze before bolting into the room to join her mother in the very sheets that her parents had occupied moments prior. Another weight much smaller than the first pressed against his shin as Noah practice standing against Chadwick’s body.

It didn’t take long for the Wyoming King bed to resume normal operations, bustling with activity from the family as a whole. As always, Noah found his way in your arms while Micah took to standing at the end of the bed to announce whatever was on her mind.

“Mommies, Daddies, and babies, I have a ‘nouncement to make!”

Sharing a brief but amused look with you, Chadwick mentally prepared for the theatrics to follow his baby girl’s “important” announcement.

“We’re listening, Boop. Go ahead.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” she smiled, adding the best curtsey she could muster on the fluffy surface. “Today is your birf-day, and we have lotsa surprises for you! Mommy, please get Daddy’s first surprise.”

Obliging her request, you reached into your drawer to pull out the small box she’d been saving for Chadwick all week. With some guidance and a budget that needed to be scaled back on more than one occasion, Micah had chosen a gift that she felt was good enough for her Dad.

“Open it, Daddy! Open it!”

“Op!”

Chadwick chuckled at the excited urging from his children as his fingers lightly traced the black velvet of the long slender box in his hand.

“Let’s see what we got here. Did Mommy let you buy this with your allowance, Boop?”

“What’s an allowance?”

“Nothing, baby. Your Daddy’s just being silly,” you answered, shooting a look at Chadwick and pinching him under the covers. “Hurry up and open the box before I have to knock you out.”

Throwing up a hand in surrender, Chadwick used the other to finally open the gift box. His eyes told the story as he processed what was in front of him. A seemingly neutral expression transitioned into joy which slowly dissolved into a misty-eyed twinkle to accompany a warm smile.

“D’you like it, Daddy!”

Chadwick took his time removing the gold necklace from its box, turning the sparkling piece of jewelry between his fingers to watch the golden panther at the end catch the few rays of sunlight beginning to peek through the clouds.

Micah had been adamant about getting a “kitty” from the moment she was told she could choose a gift for her father. After weeks of searching for an inexpensive but sturdy chain that fit your little girl’s high expectations, Chadwick was overwhelmed at the small token of appreciation.

“I love it, Princess. You pick this out by yourself?”

Micah looked to you for confirmation, receiving a wink before she answered, “Yep! And look! I got one too!”

Her slender fingers reached into her Rainbow Dash pajama set top to pull out a smaller version of the necklace.

“You’re Big Panther and I’m Little Panther. Just like how AJ is a Little Pookie!”

“This is...this is great, baby girl,” Chadwick praised as he took one more look at the chain. Come here and give me a hug.”

You looked on with the apples of your cheeks nearly forcing your eyes closed from the broad smile stretching across your face. Deciding he felt out, Noah crawled his way to the action to wiggle into Chadwick’s lap.

“Hey, big man! What’d you get Daddy?”

“Actually,” you started before flipping the covers off of your legs to slide into your slippers. “Noah and I went half on your gift. It’s downstairs waiting for you.”

“Is it the McLaren I wanted? I knew you’d get it for me!”

“You are out of your African American mind if you think I got you another car.” Chadwick’s smile dropped into a faux frown as he attempted to carry both children at once. “Don’t make that face. I think you’ll like what I got you, baby.”

Chadwick smacked his teeth at your vague response before moving to follow you down the stairs to the main living area.

“If it’s another gift that’s for me, but really for you, I’m gonna deduct it from your Christmas presents.”

“I bet you won’t!”

“I bet I will! I’ll take that tennis bracelet right back to Tiffany.”

“You say that now, but wait ‘til you see what you got down here.”

With you leading the way, only the kids got a glimpse of him rolling his eyes at the back of your head. He knew what to expect. He’d seen large transactions leave the joint account for weeks with the assumption that you were purchasing an unnecessarily expensive gift in addition to the surprise party that was no longer a secret.

Instead, he nearly dropped Noah at the sight of what you promised would render him speechless.

“You gon’ stand there and stare at us all day or what, boy?”

“D-Dee Dee? Cheri? Ma? W-”

Coherent sentences became a rarity as Chadwick fought to process what was happening in front of him. He hadn’t seen his cousins in almost a year, and his mother in months, yet here they sat in his living room laughing at his bewildered expression.

You stepped in to grab Noah while Chadwick rushed to distribute hugs equally amongst the women in front of him.

“Tasha told us you’d be in here looking all crazy, but we ain’t expect this. Do you know what a brush is,” Cheri joked.

“Haha, very funny. This is my house. You a guest, remember?” Chadwick playfully reminded as he pulled his mother into a tight hug. “What y’all doing here?”

“It’s your birthday, son! We’re here to celebrate with you!”

Chadwick looked to you with a mix of appreciation and love in eyes, earning a timid smile in return. You weren’t sure if you could pull off three flights from different spots across the country without him finding out, and considered abandoning the idea. But, seeing the four of them share laughs and family jokes, you quietly thanked God for pushing you to stay the course.

“Auntie Dee,” Micah whined while trying to get attention. “Can you make the pancakes with the sugar like at your house pleeeaaaaaase? Daddy won’t make them no more!”

“Chad, you been making these kids eat vegan with you? Don’t nobody but you and Tasha want that.”

“I don’t want it either, girl,” you mumbled loud enough to be heard. The adults in the room erupted into hearty laughter at Chadwick’s jaw-dropping in shock.

“Well, excuse me for trying to keep my family healthy.”

“You excused,” Cheri answered. “Now, c’mon, kids. Ya aunties gon’ make y’all some real food. CoCo, you mind?”

“Of course not, sis. What’s mine is yours. The real cheese is in the back of the fridge and there’s a brand new bag of grits in the cabinet above the stove. Help yourself.”

The older woman nodded to signal her understanding before disappearing into the kitchen with the rest of the family in tow, leaving you and Chadwick to stand in silence.

You tried to avoid his smile and inquisitive stare by pretending to fluff the Christmas tree, but could no longer keep up the act when he pressed his body against your back in a hug. Chadwick placed sweet kisses along your neck until he reached your jawline, and finally, your lips.

“How do you keep tricking me with these?”

Turning to face him, you wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled, “You’re easy to distract after you cum.”

“Wooooooow. You better be lucky you’re fine or I’d be offended.” A rare moment of alone time gave Chadwick just enough time to give you the kiss he’d been dying to give you since he woke up. The soft smack of lips and tongues moving in tandem were drowned out by the conversation in the kitchen while both of you desperately chased the other’s mouth in a game of cat and mouse.

“Mm, someone is appreciative. I like where this is going.”

Chadwick let out a short laugh before allowing his hands to drop and grab a handful of ass, “I love you, girl. I’ll buy you two tennis bracelets for being so damn amazing.”

“I’ll hold you to that, but we’ll talk about my gifts after your birthday. For now, c’mon in here and eat before they feed all the food to your son. You know he loves to eat.”

Chadwick accepted your light tap on the behind with no objections before watching you disappear around the corner on the way to the kitchen. If left up to him, he would accept his gifts so far and crown this birthday the best in his life. You, on the other hand, were just getting started.

---------

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#Chadwick Boseman #chadwick boseman imagine #chadwick boseman x reader #chadwick boseman fluff #chad x coco #coco x chad

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theasstour · 7 years ago

Photo

Sweet Creature. 01.

31 December 2015: You two meet.

Pairing: Y/N and Harry

Word count: 3.3k

NB: explicit language, alcohol

You had only started working at BBC Radio 1 in October, but Nick and you had already hit it off. Of course, you had made other friends at work as well, but there was something special about Nick. As lunch breaks came around, he’d haul you outside and the two of you would eat and talk, having a laugh while doing so. Since you had come to London to work toward your dream of working at a radio company and to be where everything happened, your main priority hadn’t been to make friends. But Nick made life in London easy for you. You had met loads of people through him, but so far he was the only one that you felt like you could fully be yourself around. It was because of the two of you getting so close that he invited you to his New Year’s Party. He told you that you needed to come because it wouldn’t be a party without you. You frowned on this, because you, Nick and the rest of the population on Earth knew that you were not the life of the party. Even drunk, you were as lowkey as they got. Even so, you couldn’t say no, so you decided to actually go to Nick’s small party.

You arrived 15 minutes too late, knowing that Nick wouldn’t mind and that he’d be very keen to introduce you to everyone that had arrived so far.

“I was just about to serve dinner without you.” Nick said as he let you inside, taking your coat to hang on the coat-hangers on the white wall.

“Sorry, perfection takes time.” You joke, making Nick chortle a little before he walks you into the dining area.

“Everyone, this is [Y/N]!” Before you can do anything but wave awkwardly, Nick pushes you to sit down by a free chair by the end of the table. Sitting down opposite you, Nick smiles and then continues on to introduce everyone around the table. Feeling slight anxiety bubble up, you struggle to remember all the names, but there are a few familiar faces like Alexa Chung and Rita Ora that Nick has introduced you to earlier.

“I’m serving Domino’s pizza and champagne.” He tells you as the chatter around the table continues on. “Doubtfully the best New Year’s Eve party you’ve ever been to.”

“The classiest.” You announce, making Nick smile and drag a hang through his hair. You noticed in the way Nick kept glancing toward the door that there was something he wasn’t telling you.

“What’s-“

But before you could finish the question, the doorbell went off and Nick shot up from his chair, practically running toward the hallway. The others around the table watched their friend as well, and you even shared a confused look with Alexa before Nick came grinning back into the dining area.

“Last guest is here, we can finally eat that bloody pizza. [Y/N] help me out.”

You got up from your seat and walked over to the kitchen where Nick had been keeping the pizzas warm. Placing the two pizzas on some fancy plates, you walked over to the dining table to see the last guest sitting in the chair next to yours. His long, dark locks trailed all the way down to below his shoulders, the red, floral shirt he wore loose over his upper-body while his black jeans were the opposite to his lower half. Needless to say, Nick knew that you had been a bit of a fan of One Direction back in the day and so there was no doubt in your mind that he had seated Harry next to you intentionally. And you suddenly realised why he had been so keen on having you here tonight.

“Haz,” Nick said as he walked in first, placing the pizza plates he held down on the table as you followed suit. “This is [Y/N]. [Y/N], this is Harry.”

Harry looked up at you and you swear you saw him stop a little in his tracks as he was about to raise to shake your hand properly. With his mouth ever so slightly open and the hint of a smile on his lips, Harry reached his hand out for you.

“Pleasure.” He said, licking his lips in such a way that you knew you’d think about it when you went to sleep that night.

You gave him a smile back and sat down, looking at Nick as he gave you a not-so-subtle look. There was something in that look that you didn’t really know how to depict. Nick’s eyes trailed over to Harry and as you looked at your seating-partner, he only gave you a small smile before looking down at his plate. You too watched your plate for a little bit before you let the weird events from earlier pass, choosing to talk a little and engage in the conversation that was going on around the table.

The night went on and soon all the pizza was gone and the champagne went with it. Not that you had had a lot to drink, but due to the volume in the room, you knew that everyone else had. You didn’t mind, though, watching Nick tell elaborate sex stories and gossip about people at work had you intrigued for hours. It was only when it was soon to strike midnight that Nick stopped talking and found the last bottle of champagne he had for the evening. You could feel Harry’s arm brush yours before he cleared his throat and watched Nick run off to the kitchen cabinet with all the alcohol. It was a slight touch of flesh to flesh, but it still made you draw in a little breath. Instead of telling yourself this was an actual, genuine reaction your body had to him, you told yourself this was most likely because you had been a fan and that you still kind of were. It was Harry Styles after all, he would never in a million lightyears be attracted to you. And he as most likely the most stunning specimen to breath oxygen. That was why your body was tingling where his skin had touched yours, no other reason.

What you didn’t know, however, was that Harry had felt that brush too, he had initiated it in fact. When you shook his hand earlier he had felt some sort of reaction, something that made his skin prickle in a wonderful, almost hypnotizing way. He wanted to see if he could feel it again, and as his skin brushed yours, he couldn’t help but clear his throat and look in the opposite direction of you, knowing that a small blush was creeping up his cheekbones. Another thing you didn’t know was that Harry literally had to stop for a second when he saw you. However ridiculous it sounded, it was true, and he couldn’t quite believe how hopeless he was himself. There was just something about this radiant and magnificent beauty of yours that had him stopping in his tracks at the first sight of you. Harry didn’t believe in love at first sight; hell, he wasn’t even sure if ‘the one’ was a legitimate concept. But he knew that if he didn’t get to know you tonight, he would most likely regret it for a long, long time.

“Let’s go to the balcony and get ready for the countdown!” Nick shouted, receiving a howl from all the drunks around the table.

Smiling, you got up and started walking to the hallway to retrieve your coat, something none of the other guests seemed to think was a good idea.

“Glad to know I’m not the only one knowing it will be freezing out there.” A deep voice sounded, and as you look to your left to find Harry standing there with both his hands in his jean pockets as he takes slow steps toward you and the coat-hangers.

“Think they’re too drunk to feel by this point.”

Harry let a small chuckle pass his lips as he took his coat down from the hanger, putting it on while watching you tie a scarf around your neck. Though you had told yourself your fascination in him was only there because of your previous obsession with One Direction, it didn’t stop you from taking him in. Those pink lips of his were wet after he had just had the lower one pressed between his teeth, his eyes such a green colour in the dim light of the hallway that it made you wonder what they looked like in the sun.

“Why aren’t you drinking?” You asked Harry without really registering that you had.

Harry seemed a little shocked at your utterance as well, but he brushed it off with a slight huff of air and a sideways smirk. “Would you believe a guy if he told you he didn’t feel like it?”

You cocked your head a little to the side, feeling a slight rush of confidence taking over you. An unusual feeling. “Depends on the guy.” You say before you start walking toward the balcony.

Harry is left staring after you, a little smile on his lips as he notes the way you walk toward the balcony. It wasn’t a walk that told everyone that you owned the room, rather a walk that said you didn’t want to. You liked not having all eyes on you, to be someone under the radar. To Harry, he hadn’t seen anything as attractive on a woman in all his 21 years. A smile crept over his face as a feeling of intrigue took over him. Walking after you, he knew this evening was crucial for how you two would work out. He already knew that he wanted things done the right way, he didn’t want to rush anything as you were the first “regular” girl Nick had tried to set him up with. Everyone else had been quite high-profile people, but… you weren’t. You were different.

You stood leaning against the railing as Nick asked over and over again who fancied opening the champagne bottle at midnight. It was 15 minutes away, but you knew Nick was impatient and he would have a hard time choosing over all his guests, who all seemed more than eager to open it. You suddenly felt something brush your right arm again and as you looked to your right, Harry stood there leaning against the railing as well, looking at you with the smallest grin on his lips.

“So,” he said, dragging out the word a little as your lips stretched out into a smile to match his. “Am I that kind of guy who you’d believe if told you he didn’t feel like drinking?”

So not to overwhelm yourself, you glanced out over London, loads of sounds and lights erupting from a city that never slept. This was your first New Years here after all, but it never ceased to amaze you how alive London was. The city had its own heartbeat, you had thought to yourself more than once.

“Hm,” you thought, teasing Harry as you waited to answer. “What’s your favourite alcoholic drink?”

“Any drink?”

“Anything.”

Harry let out a breath. “Probably Martini.” Harry answered, but then went on, “Or Sex on the Beach.”

“You are indecisive.” You note, still not taking your eyes off the city before you. Harry is still watching you, though. “Meaning that you’ve tasted a lot of different types of alcohol. So, I’d say you’re not.” You joke, hoping Harry will sense it.

Harry let’s a grin spread out across his lips, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he glances down at his hands holding one another. You suddenly feel anxiety press on as you thought he didn’t knew you were teasing him. Just as you were about to tell him how you were kidding, Harry started talking.

“I did party a whole lot back when I was 18, 19.” Harry admitted, looking out at London as well, trying not to stare back into your eyes as you let yourself study him where he stood by you. “I mean, at 18 I was legally allowed to drink here in the UK, so I took advantage of that. Big time.”

You let out a giggle, something that makes Harry smile and give you a short glance.

“Believe me, I know a good night out, I really do, but I just went on a break from the band, so I just thought I’d take it slow for a while.”

The sound of something shattering stopped your conversation, and as you looked down, Nick had lost the champagne bottle down on the pavement below. There was a slight silence before everyone erupted into laughter. You and Harry shared a little look before both of you watched your drunk friends as they clapped and hit each other on the back like they had just won gold in the Olympics.

“We’ll just have to go into 2016 with Absolut Vodka then. I’ll get the shot glasses!” Nick ran into the flat again, some of his friends following to help him out.

“I’m not even going to try and stop that.” Harry mumbles, making you laugh. Glancing up at you, a small spark lights up in the pit of his stomach and he bites his lip as he watches you look out over London again. Sticking his nails into the skin of his hands, he told himself to relax and not look too much into all of this.

“Anyway,” you sigh, looking at Harry as he looks down at the shattered bottle on the pavement below. “You were saying?”

Harry nodded, his green eyes meeting yours. You might not see the stars here in the thick of London, you thought to yourself, but Harry’s eyes were so damn close to replacing the concept of stars so it didn’t really matter.

“I just got on the hiatus, so I want to take it slow for a little while. Catch up on some sleep that I’ve lost over the last 5 years.”

You smile. “So you’re only going to sleep on your break? You don’t have anything else planned?”

Such a dazzling smirk spread out over his face then that you were happy you were leaning on something or else your legs would have given in. “What are you suggesting?”

“Oh, nothing.” You look away from him again, holding on to your scarf as a chilly wind blows past the two of you.

Harry only raises his eyebrows at you, but you don’t utter a single word. Where all this confidence came from was a mystery to you. Somehow, you had saved up confidence all your life for this moment and you were alright with that. If confident meant keeping your cool right now, then you were going to give it all you got.

“I mean,” Harry shrugged, getting his hair out of his face as the wind had blow it out of place. “I could fit something in between naps, but it’s a tight schedule.”

You giggle at him just as Nick and his two friends come back to the balcony with loads of shot glasses. Harry and you watch as Nick tries not to lose all of them and it is miracle that he doesn’t. A part of you tells you to start up your conversation with Harry, you two are really flirting with one another and you haven’t made yourself cringe yet. This is a miracle and you need to take advantage of this surge of confidence you have. But just as you are about to look back at him, Alexa shouts, “10, 9, 8-“

Losing yourself somewhere in between the shouts of numbers and the little time left 2015 had on this globe, you look over your shoulder at Harry. He is already staring at you, the playful grin that occupied his lips only a minute ago all gone. There is something intense, something absolutely captivating about the way he looks at you. It seemed like the firework could go off in the distance, but he’d still look at you because somehow you were more breath taking.

“-3, 2, 1; Happy New Year!”

The fireworks of London go off in the distance and everyone starts to cheer, hug and kiss one another. Anxiety and anticipation bubbles up in you as Harry take a step closer to you. You tried not to let yourself see too much into this, the two of you had just met after all, but you wanted this to be more than just that. Harry didn’t get to take another step toward you, though, because Nick jumped over to him and kissed his friend right on the lip.

“Happy New Year, Harry!”

And then he turned around, kissing you as well.

“Happy New Year, [Y/N]!”

You watched as Nick went around kissing all of his guests on the mouth, the cheering of London and the sound of fireworks as background noise for the cinematic masterpiece that was Nicholas Grimshaw as drunk. Letting yourself laugh, you look down at the ground, noticing a reminder on your phone that you have work tomorrow morning at 6. Not wanting to remind Nick of this since he’s got such an amazing time, you only look up at Harry.

“I’ve got to go.” You say, not really knowing why you are feeding him this information.

Harry’s eyebrows make one as a look of confusion washes over his face. “What?”

“I have work in the morning, and I respect myself enough not to stay up until 4am.”

Harry inhales sharply, retaking that step toward you that Nick made him walk back. Resting his hands in the pockets of his coat, he looks down at you with the same mesmerizing gaze he has held all evening. “When will I see you again?”

You give him a little smile. “Well, that’s up to fate to decide.” You say, using that last drop of confidence you have left. “And your nap schedule, of course.”

Harry’s mouth tips up to the left, revealing an adorable dimple. “Of course.”

“Harry!” Alex shouts, waving him over to her.

“Wait just a sec, Alexa.” He holds up a finger to her before looking back at you. “When are you free?”

“Harry, Alexa has a shot waiting for you.” Nick says, draping a lazy arm around Harry’s shoulders. “You need to take it.”

“Nick-“

“-And I know you’re leaving, [Y/N], but just remember to call me tomorrow when you wake up so I can try and make it on time as well, yea?” Nick points a finger at you, booping your nose so a smile comes over your features.

“I will.” You look at Harry. “I’ll see you around.”

“Wait-“

“-Bloody hell, Harry, get over here!” Alexa dragged him over, not giving Harry a chance to ask for your number before you left. You showed yourself out as you put a reminder on your phone to wake Nick the next morning. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Harry staring after you, the shot in his hand. You gave him a little smile before you disappeared from view, your heart racing immediately at the thought of the night’s events. You had been only seconds away from kissing Harry Styles. Harry fucking Styles.

And Harry himself, couldn’t believe that bloody Nick had ruined the possible kiss. Wasn’t he supposed to set you two up? Why ruin the moment? He made a mental note to ask Nick for your number when Nick was sober. Taking the shot, Harry closed his eyes and knew that he wouldn’t be able to get you out of his head until next time you two met. Hopefully fate would let it be sooner rather than later, Harry found himself thinking, because he wasn’t patient when it came to the possibility of maybe spending more time with you.

AN: AHH i really hope you guys liked this! this is the first in the series i’m calling ‘sweet creature’ and it’s basically your and harry’s love story!!

(COULDN’T FIND THE SOURCE OF THE GIF SO IF YOU KNOW WHOSE IT IS PLS SEND ME AN ASK!! FULL CREDIT GOES TO THEM ON THIS WONDERFUL CREATION)

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ithinkilikeit-reactions · 7 years ago

Text

Tensions Rise (BM/Smut)

Ask: I loved your A-Z NSFW for Matt😭♥ And I wanted to ask for a smut oneshot based on it pleasee 🌸

A/n: I changed the request a little because I’m not really feeling sub Matt rn, sorry. Also this is lowkey based on Friends because I have been marathoning that show for days.

There was always a certain amount of sexual tension between you and Matthew. It was unspoken and ignored but it was very much there. The looks, the lip bites the “unintentional” teasing, it was all a game just to see who snapped first.

You had to thank Somin and Jiwoo, if it wasn’t for them looking for another roommate you would have never met him. Maybe it would have been better in hindsight, definitely would have saved you some trouble. You were greatfull though, Somin and Jiwoo became your best friends. After a short interview and a few laughs, you were set to be there new roommate. The three of you clicked immediately and it felt like you knew them your whole life. Then they introduced you to the two boys next door.

The first time you and Matthew met, the flirting was obvious from a mile away. It was shameless, but as the weeks went on it became part of your daily routine. The door to your apartment and theirs was never locked and walk ins were frequent, even if it was just to grab a beer out of the others’ fridge. You, Jiwoo, Somin, Taehyung and Matthew became incredibly close and saw eachother everyday.

The first time the sexual tension spiked was on an early morning.

The day had just started and Somin and Jiwoo had said their goodbyes to you to go to work. Considering you worked from home, you’re hours were up to you and you decided to take your time and take a shower. The water felt nice and engulfed you, the shower was your alone time and even though you were home alone you were never really alone. That day only proved your thoughts. Not feeling the need to have yourself wrapped in a towel after the shower, you were home alone anyway.

Tip-toeing through your apartment to your room, you had to walk through the living room and a male voice scared you have to death.

“Oh hey, Y/N. OH MY GOD!” Matthew’s voice rang through your ears and your hands rushed over your body to cover it. “Matt, what are you doing here?” You asked, screaming and turning around so he couldn’t see your front at all. Your heart raced and you felt your cheeks warm up at the thought of him seeing you naked. “We ran out of juice, so I came to grab some from you guys. But I got something better.” He chuckled and you groaned in frustration.

Matthew didn’t want to admit how good you looked in that moment. Your hair was damp from your shower and so was your skin. You looked soft and vulnerable and he also felt like he was taking advantage of that. But the accidental image of you naked was already imprinted in his mind.

He turned around and away from you. “I’m not looking, go put clothes on.” Matthew said, swallowing the lump in his throat. He wanted nothing more than to follow you into your room and push you onto your bed.

You nearly sprinted to your room, your heart pounding. Matthew, your neighbor, had seen you naked. In the moment you felt bothered, but while you were changing in your room you felt heat pool inbetween your legs slightly. Pushing the thoughts aside you quickly slipped on comfy clothes and walked back into the main room. Matthew was stood there, sipping on a bottle of juice and staring off into space.

The flirting that happened between you and him wasn’t unjustafied. You found him incredibly attractive. The way he laughed, the way his shirt would lift up when he stretched and the way he looked when he concentrated on something. Matthew was an attractive man and that was only more justified when he burst into your apartment, shirtless, after working out.

As you re-entered the living room, he focussed on you. “First of all, we are never going to speak of this again. Second of all, please erase the image of me naked.” You said and he laughed. “What image of you naked? It’s already gone. I’ll be leaving now.” Matthew joked, fakely and left the apartment in a rush.

The second time sexual tension spiked was when you were all out drinking.

“So, I have a proposal. Let’s make tonight the night where we are unfiltered. Any questions we ask eachother will be answered and forgotten the next day.” Jiwoo slurred, the alcohol taking effect on her. You all agreed, deeply worried about what was going to come to light.

Your fingers found your glass and you threw back the shot, making eye contact with Matthew. “I have a question for the guys. Which one of would you date?” Somin laughed and Taehyung cringed at the question. “That’s a dangerous question that could start fights. I’m not going to answer that-” “Y/N.” Matthew interupted Taehyung’s sentence and everyone looked at him with surprise, even you.

“You answered that way too quickly.” Taehyung said and Jiwoo agreed, making the whole table laugh. You looked at Matthew with a serious face. He had a bright smile on his face, laughing along with the rest. His eyes met yours and you could swear they twinkled. You were so deep in thought that Jiwoo had to nudge your shoulder to get your attention.

“I’m sorry, what?” You asked and everyone laughed again. “I asked if you wanted another drink.” Somin said and you chuckled slightly. Matthew had messed you up with his statement and you needed to think. “Actually, I’m not feeling so good. I think I’m going to get some fresh air and walk home.” You lied and stood up to grab your things. “Aww, do you want one of us to come with you?” Somin asked, looking worried. Matthew looked at you, confusion written on his face and you pursed your lips. “No, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you guys later.” You said and slipped on your coat and left.

Matthew didn’t know if you really weren’t feeling well, or if what he told you unsettled you that much. Politely he excused himself. “She’s a girl and it’s late and dark. She shouldn’t walk home alone. Taehyung, take care of them. Have fun guys.” Matthew said and slipped on his jacket to follow you.

When he exited the resturaunt you were already across the street, walking quickly. Matthew started sprinting tocatch up with you and you could hear him call your name. Rolling your eyes to yourself, you slowly turned around to see him running towards you. All you wanted was few moments alone, he had messed you up enough. He stopped in front of you, beaming like a kid who just got candy and you hated to admit it, but your anger was already fading.

“What do you want, Matt?” You asked, crossing your arms. “It’s late and dark. You shouldn’t walk home alone. Plenty of crazy people out there.” He said and started walking towards the apartment. You stood frozen for a second, thinking about what you were going to do or say. “Are you coming?” He asked and you looked at him before catching up.

There was an awkward silence for a few moments when Matthew started laughing. “What’s so funny?” You asked, getting more annoyed by the second. “Look, I didn’t realise what I said would push your buttons that much. But it’s kind of funny seeing that your reacting as much as you are. Must mean you feel something for me too.” He said and you looked at him funny. “You are way too cocky for your own good. Besides, even if I was into you it would change the group dynamic too much. It would never work out.” You said and he looked at you, smiling cockily. “Aah so you have thought about it.” He said and you felt like punching him. He was working your nerves but you decided to play along.

“As if you haven’t. You’ve seen me naked. I bet that image enters your thoughts before you go to sleep.” You teased and his expression turned serious. “I thought we weren’t going to talk about that anymore.” He said and you scoffed. “You want to tease and fluster me, I can play that game too.” You said and the rest of the walk home was left in silence.

The third and last time sexual tension spiked was when you were stood up for a date.

Smiling, you fixed your makeup in the mirror in your room. You had scored date with a beautiful man and you were over the moon with joy. You had even dolled yourself up. Your dress was hitting you in all the right places and the neckline plunged nicely. Your heels made your legs look amazing and you let out a little laugh in approval of yourself. It wasn’t often you felt this good, but when you did you really went for it.

Stepping out of your room and into the living room you heard someone wolf whistle. Everyone was looking at you and you blushed deeply.

“Oh someone has a date.” Somin said, smiling. She knew how much you were looking forward to this and she was happy for you. But her heart hurt for Matthew, she knew he liked you. Somin looked over at him and had to hold in a laugh at his face. He was scanning you up and down and he nearly had hearts in his eyes.

“You look amazing.” Taehyung commented and redirected his attention to the tv. “Thanks, Dongwoo should be here any minute.” You said, anxiously checking your phone. There was no message. “I’ll just sit here and wait, I guess.” You said, laughing nervously as you sat down next to Matthew on the couch.

He looked at you quickly and huffed to himself. You looked so damn good. He wished you were dressing up for him. He wished you were waiting on him to pick you up for a date, but you wouldn’t have to wait because Matthew would never be late. He’d always be ten minutes early, just so he could have an extra ten minutes with you. He was whipped.

An hour passed and you still didn’t recieve a text. “I hope nothing bad happened.” You said to yourself, but you knew deep inside he was standing you up. Somin exchanged looks with Matthew and they both knew it too. With frustration, you placed your phone on the table and brushed your hair behind your ears.

“I could use a drink, Jiwoo, Taehyung. Couldn’t you guys use a drink?” Somin said, getting up and shutting the tv off. “Why aren’t you asking Matt with you?” You asked, too involved with your own self pity to catch her terrible acting. “Oh he said he was going to work out tonight.” She lied and Matthew nodded accordingly.

You watched as they left, leaving you and Matthew alone. The room was silent and you wrapped your arms around yourself. You had to hold back your tears, you didn’t want Matt to see you that way.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked placing a comforting hand on your bare arm. “I’ll be fine. This has just never happened to me. But I’ll get over it.” You said and looked at him. He had a serious face and you could feel his pity. It made you feel uncomfortable and weak. “Stop looking at me like you feel bad for me. I don’t need your pity.” You said and shrugged his hand off of your arm.

“This isn’t me pitying you. This is me caring about you. That guy who stood you up is an idiot. I’d kill to take you out on a date and see you like this all the time. And this sucker had that chance and he didn’t take it.” He said and it sounded like he was getting angry. Your heart skipped slightly at his angry confession and you suddenly weren’t feeling that bad anymore.

He wasn’t looking at you anymore, he felt like he had exposed himself too much. Matthew turned to look at you when he felt your hand on his forearm. You don’t know what came over you, but you finally snapped. His large hand rested on the back of your neck and pulled your lips against his. His lips were a lot softer than you had expected and you pulled away, breathless.

“Did I mention that, that guy is an idiot.” He said and you laughed. Gently he pulled you onto his lap and ran his fingers through your hair. He leaned down, kissing you again and you placed your hands on his chest. You had never touched him like this before and his muscles were rock hard, the feeling under your hands made you moan against his mouth. He pulled away, stopping all movements.

“Don’t start something you’re not going to finish.” He said and you smiled slightly. “What if I want to finish this?” You said and you watched him throw his head back and laugh. He stood up suddenly, carrying you and you wrapped your legs around him in reaction. Your heels dug into his ass and he groaned slightly. “Your date is really missing out.” He said and let his hands grip your ass to hold you up. “Fuck him.” You mumbled as he walked you to your bedroom.

Matthew dropped you onto your bed and immediately started undoing the straps of your heels. “I love a man who has his priorities straight.” You joked and he stilfed a laugh. “These don’t feel nice digging into my ass.” He explained and threw your shoes onto the floor before crawling back over you. Your arms wrapped around his neck and reconnected your lips. His body was pressed against yours and you could feel every muscle. His muscled thigh was wedged inbetween your legs and you rolled your hips slightly.

“Pace yourself, we have plenty of time.” He mumbled against your neck before kissing the sensitive skin. He slipped the strap of your dress off of your shoulder and nibbled on your collar bone. He was planning on leaving marks, he wanted everyone to know he finally had you and he wasn’t letting you go.

“Matt.” You sighed as he worked your skin. “What is it, doll?” He asked, coming back up to your lips. “This.” You said and flipped you two over. He looked at you surprised and pulled you flush against his chest. You dress bunched up around your hips as you straddled him, feeling his hard on against you. You slipped your hands under his t-shirt before tugging it off him. Matthew sat up and wrapped his arms around you.

“I want this dress to come off but I don’t want to break it.” He said fidgeting with the fabric and you laughed. Carefully you pulled your dress off, throwing it somewhere into your bedroom a little too agressively. Matthew groaned, feeling your bare chest against his. Your skin was softer than he imagined and his imagination was nothing compared to this.

Carefully, you got off of him and sunk inbetween his legs and onto the floor. Your fingers traced the subtle v lines above his jeans and he shivered. He watched you intently as you undid the button and zipper on his jeans, teasing him. His reactions were amusing you and if it was up to him, your lips would have been wrapped around around his cock the second you sunk down onto your knees.

You pulled his jeans and boxers off of him before looking at his cock. He was bigger than you thought he would be. But it was true to his body stature. He was called Big Matthew for a reason.

You licked a stripe up the side and sucked the tip. His hands tangled into your hair and his chest heaved. He wanted to make sure that he would remember this, he never wanted to forget the image of your lips wrapped around him.You bobbed your head taking him as deep as you could. He hit the back fo your throat and you gagged slightly, wrapping your hand around what didn’t fit in your mouth. He let out a moan at the feeling of you gagging around him. You watched his abs tense up and his moans got louder.

“Fuck baby, I’m going to cum.” He said, expecting for you to stop. But you didn’t, you kept going until you heard a loud groan escape his mouth and you felt his hips buck slightly. You felt him cum into your mouth, spilling down the sides of your lips. You pulled off of him, swallowing and he chuckled, breathlessly.

He wiped your mouth and pulled you to where you were standing in front of him. His fingers hooked into your panties and dropped them on to the floor. He laid down on the bed, leaving you standing.

“Come over here and sit on my face.” He demanded and you were surprised. You had never done anything like that before and you hesitated slightly. “Don’t worry, doll. Come sit on my face, I’ll go easy on you.” He said, reassuring you. Carefully you climbed onto the bed and let his hand guide you. They held your hips as you positioned yourself above his face. He sensed your hesitation and pulled you down onto his face.

His tongue licked up your slit and you let out a whimper. You felt him chuckle against you and he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you down. He sucked your clit, enjoying every sound coming from you and your taste. You had never felt anything like this before, you had nowhere to go and you were already on the verge of cumming.

“Matt, please.” You whimpered, gripping the sheets. His fingertips dug into your skin and his assault intensified, nibbling on your clit. This sent you over the edge, your thighs clamping around his head and a cold sweat covering your body. He licked up the reminents of your orgasm before moving you down to his chest. He watched you and the way you looked out of breath. Your legs were still by his head as you practically sat on his chest, recovering from your orgasm. He placed gentle kisses up your leg, stroking the skin soothingly.

You moved down, resting on his lap and you felt his cock hard against you. “Good stamina.” You commented, grinding down on him. “I work out.” He joked, sitting back up and wrapping his arms around your waist. His lips met yours again and you tangled your fingers in his hair. While kissing him, you positioned yourself over his cock, sinking down slowly. You moaned against his mouth, feeling him stretch you out as he filled you. Slowly you drew figure eights with your hips, feeling him pull you closer.

“Faster.” He groaned and you picked up the pace. Slamming your hips down making you both moan. Your nails scratched over his shoulders and you two continued to kiss, grunts escaping his lips more frequently. His hands moved from your hips down to your ass, squeezing the flesh. He used his new found grip and pulled you down onto him harder, the action causing a scream to escape you.

“That’s it, baby. Scream my name.” He grunted into your neck, raising his hips to meet yours. He was filling you up so nicely and hitting that spot deep inside of you. You tightened around him, your second orgasm fast approaching. Matthew latched onto your neck, sucking more marks into your skin and the sensation had you cumming around him.

You screamed out his name and your walls contracted around him, milking him for what he was worth. Quickly he pulled out of you, cumming onto both of your stomachs’.

“Holy shit.” He groaned, breathing heavily. “I know.’‘ You agreed and he chuckled. Carefully, he turned you over and laid you on the bed. “Give me a second.” He said, leaving to your bathroom for a moment. You heard the tub starting to fill up when he came back and he scooped you up. He carried you princess style and placed you at the edge of the tub. He opened his mouth to speak but was interupted by knocking coming from the apartment door.

“I got it.” Matthew said, scrambling back into your room and pulling on his pants. Not even bothering with a t-shirt he ran through the apartment and stopped at the front door. He opened it, seeing a man your age with an annoyed look on his face.

“Hey is Y/N here?” He asked and Matthew put two and two together. “yeah, you’re too late buddy. You should have called.” Matthew said and slammed the door shut before even hearing the man out. Slowly he walked towards your room. You walked out wearing his t-shirt and it came down mid thigh.

“Who was that?” You asked, yawning. “He had the wrong apartment.” Matthew lied, wrapping his arms around you and picking you up. “Now let’s go take a bath and get some sleep.”

#matthew #matthew kim #bm #big matthew #bm smut #bm reaction #bm scenario #big matthew smut #big matthew reaction #big matthew scenario #kard #kard scenario #kard reaction #kard smut

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slytherhell · 6 years ago

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Send these to your favorite Authors and let them blab! What is your total word count on AO3? How often do you write? Do you have a routine for writing? What’s your favorite kinks/tropes/pairing? Do you have a favorite fic of yours? Your fic with the most kudos? Anything you don’t like about your writing? Now something you do like! Send it to some of your favorite Authors to spread some love

//////

Total word count on AO3 : 60634 ( and this is with the 3/4 of my fics still not updated since being posted. i’m not sure how it’s this much already, the word count, that is. the most amount of words i’ve written - for a total fic - was about 5k words; then it went up to 16k+ after the food fair entry . just think of how big my total word count could be when i get my writing muse back! )

How often I write: I used to update regularly, back in about 2015. Every day, I would have a new chapter for my fics (on Wattpad, because that was my first main writing platform, but Wattpad’s dead now so we’re here.)

In fact, I used to have a full writing plan; I had about ten hp fics on my account. I picked out the top ones I had the most muse for - which was three, two drarry and one wolfstar - and told myself I would update those fics whenever I felt inspired to.

In the end, I ended up updating those fics three times every week for a good two months, and I had about 24ish chapters for the drarry fics, and close to 20ish chapters for the wolfstar ( I started that fic at a later time than the other two. )

I kept this pattern up, and made sure that everyday after school, I would clear a writing space for myself on my bed so I could write. That helped me a lot and I had so many creative juices...it was insane how much I wrote.

Now, however, I write only whenever I feel inspired to and have enough time + energy ( aka, when I don’t pass out from exhausation and not working on too many things in school - I had and still have a lot of /art/ projects. )

I try my best to write all of my ideas down, but I usually don’t have much inspiration to turn them into longer fics, or anything beyond a simple idea, so most of those get chucked and forgotten.

The ones I do manage to keep around, I usually scribble down the idea on a piece of paper, and write a starter line and/or paragraph to see how it would look if I were to continue it as an actual fic, then determine what I do with it when I get home.

There’s no true definition as to how much I write. I would just say I write depending on my current mood and situation.

Writing Routine:

It used to start in either a swivel chair in the corner of my room, or at the wooden dining room table with a hot mug of fruit-flavored tea. ( It now varies from sitting upright on my bed with music blasting out of my headphones, on the living room couch with the low murmur of the t.v. in the background, or laid sprawled out on the floor with a Kubz Scouts video in the background. )

I try to take a few minutes to write the beginning paragraph on paper, or at least attempt to outline the story ( this usually lasts for about five minutes because I CANNOT sit still, and I’ll fidget a lot if I’m required to sit still for a while. )

I’ll usually look up fics of the similarity to whatever I’m writing, and get further story inspiration from them ( I’ll usually keep those fics up in a seperate tab to read back over when I need help and/or a burst of writing inspiration )

If it’s something I‘m not quite sure about, or something I’m not properly educated on, I ALWAYS do a good bit of research before even remotely writing about it. ( This is something I do NOT skip over, like at all. )

I’m almost always blasting music or video audio through my headphones whenever I write ( I search and listen to music when I write, depending on the theme and the feel of the story. If I’m writing fluff, you’ll probably catch me listening to beautiful piano music. If it’s a dark story - gods, I love dark stories - I’ll be listening to dark music, be it dark piano versions of songs, ambient horror music. And lastly, if I’m writing something emotional, I’ll usually stop by songs that made me cry and sad as child, or that cause me to zone out of reality in present day. )

I try to set a timer whenever I write. ( While it intimidates me, it also pushes me to write more because me eyes are constantly flicker over to the timer, and the closer I see it move down to zero, the faster I write and edit. I kick in about a good twenty words at the very start of the countdown. )

( And unless you wanna hear me rant about how much I get off task and procrasinate writing whenever I can’t figure out how to make a scene work or something of the sort, then this is pretty much it. Oh, and I do a few read-overs and editing when I’m done with the first rough draft. )

Kinks in Fics:

I really like a good ‘ol leather kink in a fic ( specifically when the second half of the pairing, *cough, cough* draco in a drarry fic* is pulling on and stretching on leather gloves, and I blame @mzuul for that because the minute I saw her Draco Malfoy Bad Boy series art, that kink was developed and I’ve loved it since. )

Another one, this is gonna sound really gross + suprising for those that know me, but watersport kink. ( This was first developed when I read my very first fanfictions, and I found a few good drarry fics with this in them so this kink is here to stay )

Hair pulling kink. ( It started out with reading fics fics where Draco would either accidentally or deliberately tug on Harry’s hair, and Harry ended up loving it - but now, I read fics were both Draco and Harry have this kink because it’s actually really good. )

Praise Kink ( Started out with only Harry, but I also like fics where Draco has this kink. I blame @goldentruth813 entirely )

Hung! Harry ( Hung! Like! A Horntail! - this, this fic, is all i’m going to say..)

Parseltongue Kink ( When! Draco! has! this! and! Harry! somehow! still! keeps! his! ability! to! speak! Parseltongue! and uGH,, THIS IS SO GOOD. )

Tropes in Fics:

Legitimate! Enemies to Friends to Lovers

sLOW BURN

Sectumsempra angst

Bi Harry

Pansy is a lesbian

Draco finding out how the Durshleys treated Harry and becoming absolutely lIVID at the news

Dark! Drarry

BAMF! Harry

BAMF! Draco

When they cross paths after a few years and get to know each other + proper character developement + when they clash and they have their ups and downs, causing people to wonder how they’re even comptaible but in the end, they make it work and are able to settle down with each other and enjoy the rest of their lives.

wHEN! THEY ANIMOSITY! STAYS!

Long-haired! Draco

Bearded! Harry

aUROR PARTNERS

Raising a kid together ( tEDDY-! )

pINING

mUTUAL PINING

Sassy! (Canon) Harry

Flustered! Draco

When they’re equally sassy and equally ruthless + being able to get their shit done, and staying on top of their game

When their kids become friends and that forces them to become friends as well and hang out with each other more often

When their kids wants their dads (Draco and Harry) to end up together and make it happen

when it’s hella fluffy

when it’s hella aNGSTY ( haha, chaotic neutural )

Top! Harry!

Bottom! Draco ( I can see them both as either or both being versatile but I really love when Harry tops )

Realistic first times

Their friends setting them up ( I love when Draco, Pansy and Blaise are best friends in fics like this !! )

The constant switch of calling each other by first and last names, depending on the(ir) mood

When they are eQUALS

When they still have bANTER AND STILL ARGUE BUT W/O THE PREVIOUS HATE

When their relationship is real and raw that you can pratically feel it

hURT AND COMFORT ( real heavy on the hurt, just a bit on the comfort bc not drarry all fics have to have happy endings )

Anything involving them both working on a case together

Auror! Harry x Unspeakable! ( or even Healer! ) Draco

Jealous! Draco x (Still) Oblivious! Harry

Oblivious! Draco x Jealous! Harry

Protective! Harry ( Protective! Draco as well )

Beauxbatons! Draco x Hogwarts/Gryffindor! Harry

fORCED PROXIMITY

Multilingual! Draco

French speaking! Draco

Wandless magic ( for both )

POC! Harry ( This is my number one things in fics...I just love POC! Harry

Proper mention and represenation of Harry and/or Draco’s PTSD; following the war

Power couple! Drarry

Pairings:

Drarry ( OTP )

Pansmione

Linny

Blaico

+ a few hundred more ( for all of them, but the kinks in general ) , but you’re probably gonna have to ask off anon bc i don’t wanna lose to remainder of friends i still have left on this site, over this post. ( i keep forgetting that not all drarry accounts follow me - i have some rpers, general artists, people following me with their main acounts + multifandom blogs and i feel like every time i get started up about anything drarry, they just...regret their decision to have followed me xD but you can kinda get the gist of my kinks, right? )

Favorite Fic ( of mine ) : While I constantly dog on my own writing skills, I actually do have some of my fics that I love. But my most favorite? I’d have to say ‘(Fuck A) Silver Lining’

It’s a Draco Malfoy redemption fic I began writing earlier this year ( and yes, it was inspired/influenced by the P!ATD song. )

I mean, I haven’t updated it since I posted it - I began writing it on old Wattpad before I left that hellsite, then I later posted it to my ao3.

It’s my favorite because I really got to explore and go more in depth with Draco’s character, unlike J.K. R*wling.

And I basically filled in all the pieces that led up to the part of Draco’s life we witness ( well, y’all, bc I never read it, ha ) in C*rsed Ch*ld

I basically combined in every post-war Draco headcanon I ever thought of into one whole fic and while it takes you into his mind and shows you just how much the war has changed him, it is actually wholesome. I mean, we’ve got angst, hurt/comfort, finding love, and I even had a few scenes that were so fluffy and pure that I was crying as I wrote - which is why I haven’t updated. Other than dealing with shit irl, this story gets me really emotional and I just love it so much..

Fic with most Kudos:

‘just the right addition’ with 65 kudos.

summary :

harry has a leather kink. but draco didn't know that when he showed up on the field in a leather jacket, and suede leather gloves.

What I don’t like about my writing:

I really don’t like how I transition from scene to scene in my fics. I feel like they’re extremely sloppy and really ruin the story; especially if I had a really good idea/path for the story. ( I also don’t like how I constantly compare my writing, then try and force to change my writing style so it sounds half as good as the author’s writing style of the story that I’m reading )

What I DO like about my writing:

Um, I really like how I start most of my fics off with dialogue. I like how I have a lot on the page, but it still blends in well to get its point across. And also, if it’s a one shot, I like how I have a beginning, middle, and end for the story.

Beginning: Introducing the prompt, and what’s going on with it

Middle: What the characters actions lead to, kinda showing you where it’s going to be heading soon

End : the general idea of the ending/aftermath of it + something like an epilogue, wraps things up in a way.

/////

Thank you so much for sending me this, anon!!

Again, thank you so much, and I hope you’re well!

-Teia

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